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UNIVERSITY OF PITTSBURGH
Digitized by tine Internet Arcliive
in 2010 witli funding from
University of Pittsburgli Library System
littp://www.arcliive.org/details/allfamiliarcolloOOeras
ALL THE
Familiar Colloquies
OF ^^
Desiderius Erasmus,
O F
ROTERDAM,
Concerning Men, Manners, and Things^
tranilated into EngUjh.
By K B A I I E T,
The Second Edition.
Unlike in Merhod, with conceard Defign,
Did crafty Horace his low Numbers join j
And, wich a fly infinuacing Grace,
Laugh'd at his Friend, and look'd him in the Face :
Would raife a Blufh, when fecret Vice he found j
And tickled, while he gently prob'd the Wound :
With feeming Innocence the Crowd beguil'd j
But made the defperate Pafles, when he Irnil'd.
Terfitis Sat. I. Dryden.
LONDON:
Printed for J. J. and P. Knattov, D. Mid'u:inter and
A. Ward, A. Bettefiuorth and C. Hitch, J Pe^nhertan,
'\ Osborn and T. 'Longman, C. Uivington, F. Clay,
Batley, R. Hett, and T. Hatchet. 1753.
i
-^ ..^)
A N
INDEX
T O T H E
COLLOCLUIES.
i^ Of rafb VoiuSi
Of Benefice-Hunters,
Of a Soldier s Life,
The Commands of a Mafier,
7he Schoolmafler's Admonitionst
Of various Plays,
The Child's Piety,
The profane Feafi,
The religious Feaft,
The Apotheofis of CapniOj
The Lover and Maiden,
The Virgin averfe to Matrimony,
The penitent Virgin,
The uneafy Wife,
The Soldier and Carthufan,
Phileiymus aw^/PfeudocheuSj
The Shipwreck,
Diverforia, or the Inns,
The young Man and Harlot,
The poetical Feaji,
An Enquiry concerning Faiths
The old Mens Dialogue,
The rich Beggars,
The Abbot and leanted Woman,
Page
H
22
25
29
3^
35
37
43
70
95
131
137
H7
15?
158
172
178
182
190
1^6
20 f
218
22S
241
The
An INDEX.
The Epithalamium of Peter iEgidius,
The ExoTcifm or Apparition,
The Alchymffl,
The Horfi'Cheaty [^^
The Beggar^s Dialogue,
The fabulous feafi.
The Lying-in Woman,
The religious Pilgrimage,
Icthyopkagia, or the Fijb -eating.
The Funeral,
The Echo,
The unequal Feajl,
Of Things, andNames, or Words,
Charon,
The AJfembly of Grammarians,
The unequal Marriage,
The Impofiure,
Cyclops, or the Gojpel-Carrier,
The Impertinents, or crofs Purpofes,
The falfe Knight,
The Play of Cockal,
Ths Parliament of Women,
The early Rifng,
The fiber Feafi,
The notable Art,
The Sermon, or Merdardus,
Philodoxus, or the Lover of Glory,
The rich Mifer,
The feraphick Funeral,
Amicitia, or the Friend/bip,
The Problems,
The Epicurean,
The Confli£l bet-ween Thalia and Barbarifm,
Concerning the Profitablenefs of Colloquies,
Of the Method of Study,
r\m
THE
PREFACE.
HERE are tixio- Things I ivould take fome
Notice cf : The jirfi relates to my Author,
and the fecondto my [elf, or the Reafom why
I have atte?npted this Tranjlation of him.
And in freaking of the firfi, I prejfume I
\Jhall fa-ve my felf much of nvhat might be
[aid as to the fecond. Tho^ Erafmus is fo
ivell known, efpecially to thofe verfed in the Latin Tongue, that
there feems to be but little Occajion to fay any Thing in his Com-
me^tdation j yet fince I haix taken upon me to make him an Eng-
lifhman, give me TLeave to fay y that in my Opinio7t> he as well
deferves this Naturalization , as any modern foreigner wbofe
Works are «/ Latin, as w&ll for theUfefulnefs of the Matter of
his Colloquies, as the Fleafantnefs of Style, and Elegancy of the
Latin.
They are under an egregious Miflake, who think there is «<^>
thing to be found in them, but Things that favour of Puerility,
written indeed ingenioufy, and i?i elegant Latin. For this Book
■ contains, befdes thofe. Things of a far greater Concern j and
indeed, there, is fcarce any Thing wa?tting in them, ■fit to be
taught to a Chriftian Touth, defgnd for liberal Studies.
The Principles of Faith are not only plainly and clearly laid
dovsn, but efiablifJji'd upo?i their own firm and genuine Baps.
The Rulei of Piety, Jufrice, Charity, Purity, Meeknefs, Bro*
therly Concord, the Subjeiiion due to Superiors, are fo treated of,
that, in a word, fcarce any Thing is omitted that belongs to a
Man, a Subjeci, or a Chrifiian.
Neither are thofe Things omitted, which refpeB a Medium of
Life, by which every 07te may chufe out fafely what Ratio of
Life he has mofh Mi?zd to, and by which he may be taught, not
o?ily Civility and Couriefy, but alfo may know how to behave
hirnfelf in the World, fo as to gain himfelf the Good-will of many,
mid a good Nairn avwjig all, and may he able to dtfcem the FoU
A lies
The P R E F A C E.
lies 'and ChildiJJmeJfes of Vooh, and the Frauds and Villanies of
knaves y fo as. to guard againfl 'em all.
And neither are there li^anting Sketches > and that ample ones
too, of Poetical Story, or Pagan Theology, ttniverfal Hi/lory
facred and profane. Poetry, Criticifn, Logick, Natural and
Moral Philofophy, Oeconomics and Politics • to ivhich are added,
a good Number of Proverbs and Apothegms ufed by the mofi
celebrated of the Antients.
But there is one Thing in an efpecial Manner , that (Ijould re-
commend this Book to all Proteftants in general, and caufe them
to recomt^e7td it to be read by theit Children, that there is no Book
jitter for them to read, rjohich does in fo delightful and infiruii-
ing a Manner utterly overthrow almofi all the Pepifb Opijiions
and Superflitions, and ereSi in their Stead, a Super fru^ure of
Opinions that are purdy Protejlant.
And notviithfandmg nuhatfoever Erafmus hath faid in his
^Apology concerning the Utility of his Colloquies, that he could fay
nuith Modefiy, according to his ivonted Dexterity, to temper, and
alleviate the Bitternefs of the Wormixiood that he gave the Papifts
to drink in the Colloquies, it is pafi a ^efiion, that he lays donvn
a great many Things agreeable to the Proteftant Hypothefs, fo
that (if you except Tranfubftantiation) he reprehends, explodes
and derides almoft all the Popifli Opinions, Super (lit iojis and
Cufloms.
Therefore if this golden Book be read with Attention, I doubt
not but it vjill plainly appear, that the Scripture <was in all
Things preferred by the Author before themall'^ ajidthat he ac-
counted that alone truly infallible, and of irrefragable Authority t
and did not account the Councils, Popes or Bifljops fo.
And as to the praying to Saints, it ivas his Opinion, the
Chrifiian World vjould be -well enough vjithout it, and that he
abhorred that common Cufom of asking unnuorthy Thi^igs of them,
and flying to them for Refuge more than to the Father and
Chrifi.
That he looFd upon all external Things of very fmall Ac-
count, of vohatfoever Species they v:ere : Either the Choice of
Meats, ProceJJtons, Stations, and innumerable other Ordinances
and Ceremonies, and that they 'were in themfelves unprofi-
table, although he, for the fake of Peace and Order, did con-
form himfelf to all harmlefs Things that publick Authority had
appointed. Not judging thofe Perfons, -who out of a Scrupu-
loufhefs of Confcience thought otherivife, but vjifbing that thofe
in Authority nuotdd ufe their Power with more Mildnefs.
And that he efleem'd, as Trifles and Frauds, the Commu-
nity of good Works, of all Men whatfoever, or ijt any Society
whatfoever ; that he abhor fd the Sale of Pardons for Sins, and
derided
The PREFACE.
derided the Treafury of Indulgences, from ivhence it is a plain
Inference, that he believ'd nothing of Turgatory.
And that he more than doubted, whether auricular Confefpon
ivas inflituted by Chrift or the Apofiles j and he plainly condemns
uibfolution, and laughed at the givi7ig it in an unknown Tongue,
From -whence ive may fairly i7zfer, that he ivas againft having
the Liturgy (which ought to be read to Edification) in an un-
known Tongue. But he either thought it not fafe, or not con^
'venient, or at leafi not abjolutely ne'cejfary to fpeak his Mind
plainly as to that Matter.
Liikewife, he particularly laughed at all the Species of popular
and mojiafiical Piety j fuch as Trayers repeated over and overy
without the Mind, but recited by a certai^t Number with their
Rofariesj and Ave- Maria's, by which, God being negleSied,
they expeEied to obtain all things .^ though none were particularly
nam'd : Their tricenary, a7id anniverfary Maffes, ?2ay, and all
thofe for the Dead : The dying and being buried in a Fran-
cifcan's and Dominican's Garment or Cowl, and all the Trum-
pery belonging to it j and did, in a manner condemn all forts
of Monaflical Life a?id Order, as praBifed among the Pa^
pifis.
Hejbews it likewi/e to have been his Opinion, as to the Re-^
liques of Chriftj and he and flje Saints, that he judged the iPor-
flnp of them a vain and foolifj Thing, and believed no Vir-'
tue to be in any of them, nay, that the moft, if not all of them t
were falfe and counterfeit .
And to crown the whole, he did 7iot fpar6 that behvedPrin'
ciple and Cufiom of the Papifts, fo zealoujly praBis'd by them
upon Proteji ants, vix. thePerfecutio7t a7idBurnmg ofHereticks.
And now, of how much Ufe and Adv ant as^e fuch Things, and
from fuch a Per fin as Erafmu?, may be, and how 'much they may
conduce to the extirpating thofe Seeds of Popery, that may have
been U7ihappily fown, or may be fubtilly i7ifiiird iyito the Mii^ds
of uncautious Per fins, under the fpecious Shew of Sanctity, will,
I pre fume, eafily appear. Tho' the Things before-mentioned may
be Reafon fufficient for the turning thefe Colloquies of Erafmus
into Englifh, that fi ufeful a Treatife may not be a Book feaVd,
either to Per fins not at all, or not enough acquai7ited with the
Latin Tongue, as to read them with Edification j yet T. did it
from another Motive, i. e. the Benefit of fuch as haviftg been ifii"
tiated, defre a more fafniliar Acquai7itance with tl.e Latin
Tofigue (as to the Speakiiig Part efpecially, to which ErafmusV
Colloquies are excellently adapted) that by comparing this Verficji
with the Original, they may be thereby ajjlfied, to more perfsHly
anderfiandi and familiarize themfilves with thofe Beauties cf
A 2, the
The P R E F A C E.
the Latin Language, in lohkh Erafmus in theje Colioquiei
abounds,
And for that End, I have labour'' d to give fuch a Tranjlation
of them, as might in the general, he capable of beiitg compard ■
rvith the Original, endeavouring to avoid running i^tto a Fara^
fhrafe : But keeping as clofc to the Original as I could, vuith-
vut Latinizing and deviating from the Englifll Idiom, and fo
depriving the Englifn Reader of that Tleafure, that Erafmus
fo ple72tifully entertains his Reader ivith in Ladn,
■It is true. Sir Roger 1' Eftrange and Mr. Tho. Brown,
have formerly done fome feleH Colloquies, and Mr. H. M.
^nany Tears f nee has tranjiated the whole ^ but the former being
rather Varaphrafes than Tranfations, are not fo capable of
affording the Affflance before-mentioned ; and as to the latter,
befides that his Verfon is grown very Jcarce, the Stile is not only
eintient, but too fiat for fo pleafant and facetious an Author
as Erafmus is.
I do not pretend to have come up in my En^lifh, to that Life
and Beauty of Erafmus in Latin, v:hich as it is often inimi'
tahle in the Englifli Language, fo it is alfo a Task ft to be un-
dertaken by none but an EngliOi Erafmus himfelf, i. e. one that
had the fame Felicity of ExpreJJton that he had -^ hut I hope it
ivill appear that I have kept my Author fill in my Bye, tho*
I have follovfd him paffibus baud xquis, and could feldom
come up to him. 1 fljall not detain you any longer ^ but fubfcribe
my felf, yours to ferve you.
7^«- 25th, N. BAILEY.
1724-5.
Th^
[-J]
Tbe LIFE ^/Erasmus.
Tr\ESIDEB.tUS Erafmus, furnamed Roieroi:iamti!, was
jL/ born at Roterda?n, a Town of Holland, on the Vigil
of Simon and Juds, oxO^ober the 20th or zSch, 146^.
according to his Epitaph at Baf.l j or according to the Ac-
count of his Life, Erajho AuHore, circa a7inum, &c. about
the Tear 1467, which agrees with the Infcription of his Statue
at Roterdam, which being the Place of his Nativity, may be
fuppos'd to be the moil authentick. His Mother's Name
was Margaret, the Daughter of one Peter, a PhyHcian of
Seve7ibergejt. His Father's Name was Gerard, who carried
on a private Correfpondence with her, upon Promife of Mar-
riage j and as it fhould feem from the Life which has Eraf-
mus\ Name before it, was adiually contracted to her, which
feems plainly to be infmuated by thefe Words ^ Sunt qui z;^-
tercejjijfe verba ferunt : However, it is not to be denied that
Erafmus was born out of Wedlock, and on that Account,
Fzthsr Theophilus Ragnaiid, has this pleafant Paflage concern-
ing him : If one may be allo'vfdto droll upon a Man, that droll d
upon all the World, Erafmus, though be was jtot the Son of
a King, yet he was the Son of a crowned Head, meaning a Priefi.
But in this he appears to have been miftaken, in that his Farher
was not in Orders when he begat him. His Father Gerard
was the Son of one Elias, by his Mother Catheriite, who
both liv'd to a very advanc'd Age ; Catherine living to the
Age of 95. Gerardh^d. nine Brethren by the fame Facher and
Mother, without one Sifter coming between them j he him-
felf was the youngefl: of the ten, and liv'd to fee two of his
Brothers at Dort in Holland, near 90 Years of Age each. All
his Brothers were married but himfelf; and according to the
Superilirion of thofe Times, the old People had a mind ro
confecrate him to God, being a tenth Child, and his Brothers
lik'd the Motion well enough, becaufe by that Means they
thoui^ht they fliould have a fure Friend, where they might
eat and drink, and be merry upon Occalion. They being all
very preffing upon him to turn Ecclefiaftick, (which was 3
Courfe of Life that he had no Inclination to,) Gerard find-
ing himfelf befet on all Sides, and by their univerfal Confcnt
excluded from Matrimony, refolving not to be prevaii'd up-
A ^ cm
in
on by any Importunities, as defperate Parents do, fled from
them, and lefn a Letter for his Parents and Brothers upon the
Road, acquainting them with the Reafon of his Elopement,
bidding them an eternal Farewel, telling them he would ne-
ver fee them more. He profecuted his Journey to Rome, leav-
ing Margaret, his Spoufe that was to be, big with Child of
Brafmus. Gerard being arriv'd at V^ome, betook himfelf to get
his Living by his Pen, (by tranfcribing Books) being an excel-
lent Penman ; and there being at that Time a great deal of
that fort of Bufmefs to do (for as the Life that is faid to be
'Erajino AuEiore has it, turn nondum ars typographorum erat, i. e.
The Art of Vrlnting -was: not then found out ; which was a Mi-
ftake, for it had been found out twenty-four Years before, in
the Year 1442. But perhaps- the Meaning may be, tho' in
was found out, it was not then commonly ufed j he got Mo-
ney plentifully, and for fome Time, as young Fellows us'd to
do, liv'd at large ; but afterwards apply'd himfelf in good Ear-
neft to his Studies, made a confiderable Progrels in the i^-
tin and Greek Tongues, which was very much facilitated by
his Employment of tranfcribing Authors, which could not but
foongly imprefs them on his Memory j aud he had alfo ano-
ther great Advantage, in that a great many learned Men then
flourifh'd at 'Rome, and he heard particularly one Guar'tnus.
But to return to Erafmus, his Mother Margaret being deliver-
ed of him, he was after his Father called Gerard, which in the
German Tongue, fignifies Amiable j and as it was the Cuftom
among learned Men in thole Times, (who affedted to give
their Names either 'mZjatin ox Greek,) it was turn'd 'vaioDeft-
der'tus (Didier) in Latin, and into Erafmus [E£^,(r/^<®*] in
Greek, which has the fame Signification. He was at firft
brought up by his Grandmother, till Gerard's Parents com-
ing to the Knowledge that he was at Rome, wrote to him,
fending him Word, that the young Gentlewoman whom he
courted for a Wife was dead ; which he giving Credit to, in
a melancholy Fir, took Orders, being made a Presbyter, and
apply'd his Mind ferioufly to the Study of Religion. But
upon his Return into his own Country, he found that they
had im-pos'd upon him. Having taken Orders, it was too
late to think of Marriage , he therefore quitted all further
Pretenfions to her, nor would {he after this, be induced to
marry. Gerard took Care to have his Son Erafmus liberally
educated, and put him to School when he was fcarce four
Years old. (They have in Holland, an ill-grounded Tradi--
tion ; that Erafwus, when he was young, was a dull Boy,
and flow ar Learning j but MonCieuT Bayle has fufficiently re-
futed that Error, tho' were it true, it were no more Diflwnour
[7]
to hirti, than it was to Thomas Aquinas, Suarezl and others.)
He was a Chorifter at Vtrecht, till he was nine Years old, and
afterwards was fent to Dakienter, his Mother alfo going thi-
ther to take Care of him. That School was but barbarous,
the moll that was minded, was Matins, Even-Song, <S'c.
till Alexander Hegius of iVeflphalia, and Zinthius, began to
introduce fomething of better Literature. (This Alexander
Hegius y was an intimate Friend to the learned TLodolphus Agri-
cola, who wasithe firft that brought the (Jr^-e-^ Tongue over the
Mountains of Germany, and was newly returned out of Italj^
having learned the Greek Tongue of him. j Erafaius took his
firfl: Tafte of folid Learning from fome of his Playfellows,
who being older than himfelf, were under the Inftrudtion of
Zinthius : And afterwards he fometimes heard Hegius ; bun
that was only upon holy Days, on which he read publickly,.
and fo rofe to be in the third Clafs, and made a very good Pro-
ficiency : He is faid to have had fo happy a Memory, as
to be able to repeat all Terence and Horace by Heart. The
Plague at that Time raging violently at Dave?tter, carry'd oflF
his Mother, when Erafmus was about thirteen Years of
Age^ which Contagion increafing n\pre and more every Day,
having fwept away the whole Family where he bcaVded, he
returned Home. His Father Gerard hearing of the Death ot
his Wife, was fo concern'd at it, that he grew melancholy
upon it, fell fick, and died foon after, neither of them being
much above forty Years of Age. £ie affign'd to his Son Eraf.
mus three Guardians, whom he eileem'd as trufty Friends,
the principal of whom was Teter iVinkeh the Schoolmafter
of Goude. The Subftance that he left for his Education, had
been fufficientfor thatPurpofe, if his Guardians had difcharg'd
their Truft faithfully. By them he was remov'd to Boifleduc,
tho' he was at that Time fit to have gone to the LTniverfity.
But the Truftees were againft fending him to the Univerfity,
becaufe they had defign'd him for a Monaftick Life. Here
he liv'd (or, as he himfelf fays, rather loil three Years) in a
Erancifcan Convent, where one Zvo;/.'^o/^' caught Humanity, who
was exceedingly taken with the pregnanr Farts ot the Youth,
and began to follicit him to take the Habit upon him, and
become one of their Order. Er<j/w?a5- excu fed himfelf, alledg-
ing the Rawnefs and Unexperiencednefs of his Age. The Plague
fpreading in thefe Parts, and after he had ftrugglcd a whole Year
with an Ague, he went Home to his Guardians, having by this
Time furnidied himfelf with an indifferent good Style, by
daily reading the beft Authors. One of his Guardians was
carried off by the Plague ; the other two not having managed
his Fortune with the grcaccil Care, began to contrive how they
A 4 might
[8]
might fix him in fome Monaftery. Erafmus {lill languifhing un-
der thislndifpofiuon, rho' he had no Averfion to the Severities of
a pious Life, yet he had an Averlion for a Monaftery, and there-
fore delired Time to conBder of the Matter. In the mean
Time his Guardians employ'd Perfons to follicit him, by fair
Speeches, and the Menaces of whac he muft expedt, if he
did not comply, to bring him over. In this Interim they
found out a Place for him in Siojt a College of Canons Re-
gulars near Delft, which was the principal Houfe belonging
to that Chapter. When the Day came that lErafmus was to
give his final Anfwer, he fairly told them, he neither knew
what the World was, nor what a Monaftery was, nor yet,
what himfelf was, and that he thought it more advifeable
for him to pafs a few Years more at School, till he came to
knovv' himfelf better. Teter Winkel perceiving that he was
immoveable in this Refolution, fell inro a Rage, telling him,
he had taken a great deal of Pains to a fine Purpofe in-
deed, who had by earneft Sollicitations, provided a good
Preferment for an obftinate Boy, that did not underftand
his own Intereft : And having given him fome hard Words,
told hinj,, that from that Time he threw up hisGuardianfliip,
and now he might look to himfelf. Erafmus prefently re-
ply'd, that he took him at his firft Word ^ that he was now
of that Age, that he thought himfelf capable of taking Care
of himfelf. When his Guardian faw that threatning would
not do any thing with him, he fet his Brother Guardian, who
was his Tutor, to fee what he could do v/ith him : Thus
was Erafmus furrounded by them and their Agents on all
Hands. He had alfo a Companion that was treacherous to
him, and his old Com.panion his Ague ftuck dole to him ;
but all thefe would not make a monaftick Life go down
wiih him , till at laft, by meer Accident, he went to pay a
Vifit at a Monaftery of the fame Order at Emaus or Steyn
rear GovJe, where he found one Cornelius, who had been
his Chamber-fellow at Dai'eiiter. He had not yet taken the
Habit, but had travelled ro Italy, and came back wkhout
making any grear Im.provements in Learning. This Ccrnc-
Jius, with all the Eloquence he was Mafter of, was continu-
ally ferting out the Advantages of a religious Life, the Con-
veniency of noble Libraries, Retirement from the Hurry of
the World, and heavenly Company, and the like. Some
intic'd him on one hand, others urg'd him on the other, his
Ague ftuck clofe to him, fo that at laft he was induc'd to
pitch upon this Convent. And after his Admifiion he was
ted up with great Promifes t& engage him to cake upon him
the
[pi
tlie holy Cloth. Altho' he was but young, he foon percei-
ved how vaftly ^lort all Things there fell of anfwering his
Expedations j however^ he fet the whole Brotherhood to ap-
plying their Minds to Study. Before he profeffed himfelf
he would have quitted the Monaftery ; but his own Modefty,
the ill Ufage he was treated with, and the Neceffities of his
Circumftances, overcame him, fo that he did profefs him-
felh Not long after this, by the means of Gulielmut Her-
Tnanms of Biida, his intimate Affociare, he had the Honour
to be known to Henry a Bergis Bifhop of Cambray, who
was then in Hopes of obtaining a Cardinal's Hat, which he
had obtained, had not Money been wanting : In order to
follicit this Affair for him, he had Occafion for one that was
Mafter of the L^?i?/ Tongue ; therefore being recommended
by the Bifhop of Utrecht, he was fent for by him j he had
alfo the Recommendation of the Trior, and General, and
was entertained in the Bilhop's Family, but flill wore the
Habit of his Order : But the BiHiop, difappointed in his
Hope of wearing the Cardinal's Hat, Erafmus finding his
Patron fickle and wavering in his AfFedions, prevail'd with
him to fend him to Tarii, to profecute his Studies there.
He did fo, and promifed him a yearly Allowance, but it was
never paid him, according to the Cuftom of great Men. He
was admitted of Montague College there, but by reafon of ill
Diet and a damp Chamber, he contradled an Indifpofition
of Body, upon which he returned to the Bifhop, who en-
tertain'd him again courceoufly and honourably : Having re-
cover'd his Health, he return'd into Holland, with a Defign
to fettle there ^ but being again inviied, he went back to
Taris. But having no Patron to fupport him, he rather
made a Shift to live (to ufe his own Expreffion) than to
fludy there j and undertook the Tuition of an Efiglijh Gen-
tleman's two Sons. And the Plague returning there periodi-
caHy for many Years, he was obliged every Year to return
into his own Country. At length it raging all the Year long,
he retir'd to Louvain.
After this he vifited Ei?gland, going along with a young
Gentleman, to whom he was Tutor, who, as he fays him-
felf, was rather his Friend than his Patron. In England he
was received with univerfal Refpect j and, as he tells us
himfelf in his Life, he won the Af&dtions of all good Men
in our Illand. During his Refidence here, he was intimate-
ly acquainted with Sir Thomas More, William Warhatrii
Archbilhop of Canterbury, John Colet, Dean of ^t. Tauls, the
Founder of St. Pauh School, a Man remarkable for the Re-
gularity of his Life, great Learning and Magnificence j with
Hu^h
[ «° ]
Hugh Latimer Bifhop of Winchejler, Linacre, Grochius, andf
many other honourable and learned Perfons, and pafTed fome
Years at Cambridge, and is faid to have taught there ^ but
whether this was after his firft: or fecond Time of vifiting Eng-
land, I do not determine : However, not meeting with the
Preferment he expeded, he went away hence to make a Jour-
ney to Italy, in the Company of the Sons of BaptifiaBoetius,
a Genoefe, Royal ProfeCfor of Phyfick in England • which
Country, at that Time, could boaft of a Set of learned Men,
not much inferior to the Augufian Age : But as he was going
to Erance, it was his ill Fortune, at Dover, to be ftripp'd of all
he had ; this he feems to hint at in his Colloquy, intitled, the
Heligious Pilgrimage : But yet he was fo far from revenging
the Injury, by refledting upon the Nation, that he immediately
publifhed a Book in Praife of the King and Country ; which
Piece of Generofity gained him no fmall Refpedt in England.
And it appears by feveral of his Epiftles, that he honoured
England next to the Place of his Nativity.
It appears by Epifi. lo. Lib. 16. that v/hen he was in Eng~
la7id Learning fiourifhed very much here, in that he writes,
Apud Anglos triumphant home Lit era 3 re^a Studia j and in
Epifi 12. Lib. 16. he makes no Scruple to equal it to Italy
it felf; and Epiji. 26. Lib. 6. commends thcEngli/b Nobility
for their great Application to all ufeful Learning, and en-
tertaining themfelves at Table with learned Difcourfes, when
the Table-Talk of Churchpien was nothing but Ribaldry and
Profancnefs. In Epifi. 10. Lib. 5. which he addrefTes to An-
drelinus, he invites him to come into England, recommend-
ing it as worth his While, were it upon no other Account,
than to fee the charming Beauties with which this Ifland a-
bounded ; and in a very pleafant Manner defcribes to him the
Complaifance and innocent Freedom of the Englifb Ladies,
telling him, that when he came into a Gentleman's Houfe he
was allowed to falute the Ladies, and alfo to do the fame at
taking Leave : And tho' he feems to talk very feelingly on
the Subjed, yet makes no Refledions upon the Virtue of
EnglifJj Women. But to return to him j as to his Voyage
to Italy, he proiecuted his Journey to Turin, and took the
Degree of Doftor of Divinity in that Univerfity j he dwelt
a whole Year in Bolognia, and there bbtain'd a Difpenfation
from Pope Julian to put off his Canon's Habit, but upon Con-
dition not to put off the Habit of Prieil j and after that went
to Venice, where was the Printing-Houfe of the famous Ma-
putius Aldus, and there he publiflied his Book of Adagies,
and flaying fome Time there, v/rote feveral Treatifes, and
kad the Converfation of many eminent and learned Men,
From
1 1' ]
From thence he went to Vadua, where at that Time Alexatt'
der the Son of James King of Scotland, and Bifhop of St. Aw-
drews in Scotland, ftudied, who chofe Erafmus for his Tutor
in Rhetorickj and went to Seana, and thence to Rome, where
his great Merits had made his Prefence expeded long before.
At Rome he gained the Friendfhip and Efteem of the moft
conliderable Perfons in the City^ was offered the Dignity of
a Penitentiary, if he would have remained there : But he
returned back to the Archbiftiop, and not long after went
with him again to Italy, and travelling farther into the Coun-
try, went to Cuma, and vifited the Cave of Sybilla. After the
Death of the Archbifliop he began to think of returning to his
own Country, and coming over the Rhetian Alps, went to Ar-
gentorat, and thence by the Way of the Rhi?ie into Holla^id,
having in his Way vifiited his Friends at Antwerp and Lorain ;
but Henry VIII. coming to the Crown of England, his Friends
here, with many Invitations and great Promifes, prevailed up-
on him to come over to England again, where it was his
Purpofe to have fettled for the remaining Part of his Life,
had he found Things according to the Expedtation they had
given him : But how it came about is uncertain, whether
Erafmus was wanting in making his Court aright to Cardinal
Wolfe J, who at that Time manag'd all Things at his Piea-
fure ; or, whether it were that the Cardinal look'd with a
jealous Eye upon him, becaufe of his intimate Friendfliip with
William Warham, Archbifliop of Canterbury, who had taken
him into his Favour, between whom and Wolfey there was
continual Clafliing, (the Cardinal after he had been made the
Pope's Legate, pretending a Power in the Archbiihoprick of
Canterbury.) On this Difappointment he left England, and
went to Flanders J Archbifliop 1^^?'/::'-.'?^ had indeed fliewed his
Efteem for him, in giving him the Living of Aldington. In
fliort, Er<?/7/;«/ takes Notice of the Friendfhipber ween lumfelf
and Warham in the Colloquy called. The Religious Pilgrimage.
As to his Familiarity with Sir Thomas More, there are fe-
veral Stories related, and efpecially one concerning the Dif-
putes that had been between them about Tranfubfiantiation, or
the real Prefence of Chi'iftinthe confecrated Wafer, of which
Sir Thomas was a llrenuous Maintainer, and Erafmus an Op-
ponent j of which, when Erafmus favv he was too Itrongly byaf-
fed to be convinced by Arguments, he at laft made ufe of the
following facetious Retortion on him.« It feems in their Dif-
putes concerning the real Prefence of Chrift in the Sacrament,
which were in Latin, Sir Thomas had frequently ufed this Ex-
preflion, and laid the Strefs of his Proof upon the Force of
Beliwing, Credr^Hodedisc^edir^i.c, Believe you eat [Chriftl
and
and you do eat him 5 therefore 'B.rafmus anfwers him, Crecte
^uod babes (ir babes. Believe that you bave \^your Horfi] and
you have him. It feems, at Erafmus's going away. Sir Thojnas
had lent him his Horfe to carry him to the Sea fide or Dover ;
but he either carried him with him over- Sea to Hollar d, or
fent him not back to Sir Thomas, at leaft for fome Time j up-
on which Sir Thomas writing to Erapnus about his Horie,
Erafrnus is faid to have written back to him as follows.
Ut mihi fcripjifii de corpore Chrifii»
Crede quod edis ^ edis.
I 2ic tibi refcribo de tuo Palfrido ;
Crede quod babes ^ babes.
Being arrived at Fla?iders by the Interefl of Syhagius Chan-
cellor to Charles of Aufiria, afterwards Emperor of Germanji
fcnown by the Name of Charles V. he was made one of his
Counfellors.
Xwihtmo.'iXiTxmt Johannes Erobenius, a famous Printer, ha-
ving printed many of his Works at Ba[d in Svjitzerland, and
being much taken with the Elegancy of his Printing, and
the Neatnefs of his Edition, he went thither, pretending that
he undertook that Journey for the Performance of fome Vow
he had made j he was kindly entertain'd by him, and publifh'd
feveral Books there, and dedicated this his Book of Collo-
quies to Frobenius^s Son, and refided till the Mafs had been
put down there by the Reformers. When he left that Place,
he reiif'u to Friburg in Alface. Before his going to Fri~
hurg, he vifucd the low Countries to fettle certain AfKiirs
there. And was at Cologn at the Time that the Affembly
was at Worms, which being diffolv'd, he went again to Ba~
fil, eicher, as 'ome fay, for the Recovery of his Health, or,
as others, for the publifhing of feveral Books. He received
the Bounty and Munificence of feveral Kings, Princes, and
Popes, and was honourably entertain'd by many of the chief
Cfrics which he pafs'd through. And by his Procurement, a
College of three Languages was inftitured at Lduvain, at
the Charge of Uieronimus Biilfudius, Governor of Aria, out
of certain Monies he at his Death bequeath'd to the Ufe of
ftudious and learned Men. An Account of which coming
to the Ears of Francis King of France, he invited him by
Letters to Paris, in oWer, by his Advice, to eredt the like
College there. But certain Affairs happening, his Jour-
ney thither was hindred. He went to Friburg in Alface,
Vi here he bought him an Houfe, and liv'd feven Yeais in
great Eilaem and Reputation, both with the chief Magi-
ftraces
t 13 ]
giftrates" and Citizens of the Place, and all Perfons of any Notd
in the Univerfity, But his Diftemper, which was the Gout*
coming rudely upon him, he, thinking the Change of Air would
afford him Relief, fold his Houfe, and went again to Bafil,
to the Houfe of Vrobenius j but he had not been there above
nine Months before his Gout violently aflaulted him, and
his Strength having gradually decay'd, he was feized with a
Dyfentery, under which having laboured for a Month, it at
lall overcame him, and he died at the Houfe of Jerovie Fro-
henius, the Son of John the famous Printer, the 12th of
July 1536, about Midt^ight, being about feventy Years oi
Age : After his laft Retreat to Bafil, he went feldom Abroad ,
and for fome of the 1aft Months ilirred not our of his Cham-
ber. He retained a found Mind, even to the laft Moments
of his Life ; and, as a certain Author faith, bid Farewel to
the World, and paffed into the State of another Life, after
the Manner of a Proteftant, without the Papiftical Ceremo-
nies of Rofaries, Croffes, Confeffion, Abfolution, or recei-
ving the tranfubftantiated Wafer, and in one word, not de-
firing to have any of the Romijb Superflitions adminiftred,
but according to the true Tenor of the Gofpel, taking
Sanduary in nothing but the Mercies of God in Chrift.
And finding himfelf near Death, he gave many Teftimonics
of Piety and Chrift ian Hope in God's Mercy, and often-
times cry'd out in the German Language, Liever Godt, i. e.
dear God ; often repeating, O Jefus have Mercy on me I O
Lord, deliver me ! Lord, put an End to my Mifery ! Lord,
have Mercy upon me.
In his laft Will, he made the celebrated Lawyer Boni-^
facius A7nerbachius\\\s¥.xecnx.o'c, bequeathing the greareft Part
of his Subftance to charitable Ufes ; as for the Maintenance
of fuch as were poor and difabled through Age or Sickneis ;
for the Marrying of poor young Virgins, to keep them from
Temptations to Unchaftity j for the maintaining hopeful Stu-
dents in the Univerficy, and fuch like charitable Ufcs. In
the overfeeing of his Will, he join'd with Amerbachius, tv/o
others, Jerome Frobenius, and Nicholas Epifcopius, who were
his intimate Friends, and whom a certain Author fays, had
then efpoufed the Reformation began by Luther and other
Reformers. The City of Bafil ftill pays Erafmus the Refpedt
which is due to the Memory of fo eminent a Pcrfon ; they
not only call'd one of the Colleges there after his Name,
but fliew the Houfe where he died to Strangers, with as
much Veneration as the People of Roterdam do the Houfe
where he was born,
I fliall
[ >4]
I fhall not here pretend to give a Catalogue of all Erafmus's
genuine Pieces^ which they fliew at Bafil : As to his Collo- '
quies and Mori^ Encomium, they have feen more Editions
than any other of his Works ; and Moreri fays, that a Book-
feller at Varis, who thoroughly underftood his Trade, fold
twenty four thoufand of them at one Impreffion, by getting
it whifper'd to his Cuftomers, that the Book was prohibited,
and would fuddenly be call'd in.
He was buried at Bafil, in the Cathedral Church, on the
left Side near the Choir, in a Marble Tomb i on the fore Side
of which was this Infcription :
CHRISTO SERVATORL
DESID. ERASMO ROTEROD.
Viro omnibus modis maximo;
Cujus incomparabilem in omni difciplinarum genere eru-
ditionem, pari conjunftam prudentia,
Fofiert admirabuntur & prsdicabunt,
BONIFACIUS AMERBACHIUS, HIERONYMUS -
FROBENIUS, NICHOLAS EPISCOPIUS Hsredes,
Ec nuncupati fupremae fuse voluntatis vindices
* Fatrono Optimo,
non Memori£, quam immortalem fibi Editis Lucubrationi-
bus comparavit, eis, tantifper dum orbis Terrarum flabitj,
fuper-futuro, ac eruditis ubique gentium colloquuturo : fed
Corporis Mortalis,
Qiio rcconditum fit ergo, hoc faxum pofuere. Mortuus eft
IV. Eidus Julias jam feptuagenarius. Anno a Chrifto nato,
M. D. XXXVI.
Upon the upper Part of the Tomb is a quadrangular Bafe,
upon which ftands the Effigies of the Deity of Terminus, which
Erafmus chofe for the Imprefs of his Seal, and on the Front
of that Bafe is this Infcription.
DES. ERASMUM ROTERODAMUM ^w?« fubhoc
faxo condebant,
IV. t eid. Jul. M. D. XXXVI.
In the Year 1549, a wooden Statue, in Honour of (o
great a Man, was eredted in the Market-place at Roterdam ;
and in the Year 1557, ^ Stone one was erected in the Stead of
it ; but this having been defaced by the Spaniards in the
Year 1572, as foon as the Country had recovered its Liberty
it was reftored again. But in the Year 1622, inftead of it,
a very com pleat one of Brafs, eight Foot high with the
Pedeiial, was ereftcd, which is now ftanding on the Bridge
at Roterdam, and likely long to remain there, on the Foot of
which is the following Infcription.
DESIDERIO ERASMO MAGNO,
Scientiarum atque Literaturse politioris viadici & i?tjlaura-
tori ;
t li]
tori : Vtro fui feculi Vr'imsino, civi omnium prasftantiflimo,
ac nominis immortalitatem fcriptis aeviternis jure confecuto,
S. P. a ROTERODAMUS,
Ne quod tantis apud fe fuofque pofteros inrtutibus prae-
mium deeflTet, Statuam banc ex sere Publico erigcndum cu-
raverunt.
On the right Side, are thefe Verfes of Nicholas Heinjius.
Barbarize talem fe debellator Erafmus,
Maxima laus Batavi nominis, ore tulit.
"Reddidit i en, fatis, Ars obluBata finifiris,
De tanto fpolium na£ia quod urna viro ejt.
^ Ingenii ccelefie jubar, majufque caduco
Tempore qui reddat, fohs Erafmus erit.
On the left Side, and behind, there is an Infcription in thd
"Dutch Language, much to the Purport of the firft Infcription.
On the Houfe where 'Erafmus was born, formerly was this
lafcription.
Hac efi parva Domtis, magnits qua natus Erafmus.
The fame Houfe being rebuilt and enlarged, has the followW
ing Infcription.
JEdibus his ortus Mundum decor avit ErafmuSj
Artihiis ingenuis, 'Religiom, Fide.
As for his Stature, he was neither very low nor very tall,*
his Body well fet, proportioned and handfome, neither fac
nor lean, but of a nice and tender Conftitution, and eafily
put out of Order with the leaft Deviation from his ordinary
Way of Living; he had from his Childhood fo great an Aver-
fion to eating of Fifh, that he never attempted it without the
Danger of his Life, and therefore obtained a Difpenfation from
the Pope from eating Fifh in Lent, as appears by the Story
of Eras, (as he ftiles himfelfj in the Colloquy caU'd Ichthyo-
phagia. He was of a fair and pale Complexion, had a high
Forehead, his Hair, in his younger Years, inclining to yel-
low, his Nofe pretty long, a little thick at the End, his
Mouth fomething large, but not ill made, his Eyes grey buc
lively, his Countenance chearfui and pleafant, his Voice fmal?,
but mufical, his Speech diftind and plain, pleafant and jccoCe,
his Gaite handfome and grave ; he had a mofl: happy Memory
and acute Wit, he was very conixant .to his Friend, and ex-
ceeding liberal to thofe that were under Neceffity, efpecially
to ftudious and hopeful Youths, and to fuch as v/ere defti-
tute in their Journey : In his Converfation he was very plea-
fant and affable, free from peevifh and morofe Humours,
but very witty and fatyrical. It is related, that when Erafmus
was told, that Luther had married and gotten the famous
Catharine Bora with Child, he fhould in a jefting Manner
fay, that, if according to the popular Tradition, Antichriji
I was
[ I^]
was to be begotten between a Monk and a Nun^ the World
was in a fair Way now to have a Litter of Antichrifts.
I fliall conclude with the Character given of Erafmiis by-
Mr. Thomas Broxun, who comparing him with Lucian, fays.
That whereas Erafmus had tranflated Part of his Dialogues
into Latin, he had made Luda7i the Pattern of his Colloquies,
and had copied his Graces with that Succefs, that it is diffi-
cult to fay which of the two was the Original.
That both of them had an equal Averfion to auftere, fullen,
defigning Knaves, of what Complexion, Magnitude, or Party
foever. That both of them v/ere Men of Wit and Satyr,
but that Erafmus, according to the Genius of his Country,
had more of the HumOurift in him than Lucian, and in all
Parts of Learning was infinitely his Superior. That
Lucja?i liv'd in an Age, when Fidion and Fable had ufurp'd
the Name of Religion, and Morality was debauch'd by a
Set of fowr Scoundrels, Men of Beard and Grimace, but
fcandalouily lewd and ignorant, who yet had the Impu-
dence to preach up Virtue, and ftile themfelves Philofophers,
perpetually cladiing with one another about the Precedence
of their feveral Founders, the Merits of their diflFerenc Se&St
and if it is poffible, about Trifles of lefs Importance ^ yet all
agreeing in a different Way, to dupe and amufe the poor
People by the fantaflick Singularity of their Habits, the un-
intelligible Jargon of their Schools, and their Pretenfions t«
a fevere and mortified Life. This motly Herd of Jugglers
Lucian in a great Meafure help'd to chafe out of the World,
by expofing them in their proper Colours.
But in a few Generations after him, a new Generation fprung
up in the World, well known by the Name of Monks
and Friars, differing from the former in Religion, Garb, and
a few other Circumftances, but in the main, the fame in-
dividual Impoftors J the fame everlafling Cobweb-Spinners
as to their nonfenfical Controverfies, the fame abandon'd
Rakehells as to their Morals j but as for the myfterious Arts
ol heaping up Wealth, and picking the Peoples Pockets, as
much fuperior to their PredecefTors the Tagan Philofophers,
as an overgrown Favourite that cheats a whole Kingdom, is
to a common Malefador.
Thefe were the fandified Cheats, whofe Follies and Vices
Erajhms has fo efFedually lafli'd, that fome Countries have
entirely turn'd thefe Drones out of their Cells, and in other
Places Where they are flill kept, they are grown contempti-
ble to the higheft Degree, and obligd to be always upon
their Guard,
THE
THE
Familiar Colloquies
OF
Desiderius Erasmus,
O F
R 0 T E R D A M.
The Argument.
"this CfiJloquy teaches Court efy and Civility in Saluting^
who.^ when<i and by what 'Title ive ought to Salute.
At the Firfi Meeting.
Certain Perfon teaches, and not without Rea-
fon, that [i] we Ihould Salute freely. For a
courteous and kind Salutation oftentimes en-
gages Friendship, and reconciles Perfons at i
variance, and does undoubtedly nouridi and
increafe a mutual Benevolence. There are
indeed fome Perfons that are fuch [2] Churls,
and of (o clownifh a Difpohtion, that if you lalute them, they
will fcarcely falute you again. But this Vice is in fome Perfons
[1] Cato in his Precepts has Saluta llbenter.
[2] Moroje. Dsjnea was a morofe old Man in Terencf^
rather
CO
rather the EfFe£l of their Education:, than their natural Difpo-
fition.
It is a piece of Civility to falute thofe that come in your way ;
either fuch as conie to us, or thofe that we go to fpeak with.
And in like manner fuch as are about any fort of Work, either
at Supper, or that yawn, or hiccop, or fneez.e, or cough. But
it is the Part of a Man that is civil even to an Extreme, to fa-
lute one that belches, or breaks Wind backward. But he is
uncivilly civil that falutes one that is making Water, or eafing
Nature.
God fave you Father, God fave you [i] little Mother, God
fave you Brother, God fave you my worthy Mailer, God fave
you heartily Uncle, God fave you'fweet Coufin.
It is courteous to make ufe of a Title of Relation or Affinity,
unlefs when it carries fomething of a Refiedion along with it,
then indeed it is better not [2] to ufe fuch Titles, tho' proper,
•but rather fome that are more engaging, as when we call a Mo-
ther-in-law, Mother^ a Son-in-law, Son; a Father-in-law, Fa-
ther ; a Sifter's Husband, Brother j a Brother's Wife, Sifter :
And the fame we fhould do in Titles, either of Age or Office.
For it will be more acceptable to falute an ancient Man by the
Name of Father, or venerable Sir, than by the Sirname of Age ;
altho' in antient Times they ufed to make ufe of a yi^v, [3] as
an honourable Title. God fave you Lieutenant, God lave you
Captain ; but not God fave you Hofier or Shoemaker. God
five you Youth, or young Man, Old Men falute young Men
that are Strangers to them by the Name of Sons, and young
Men again falute them by the Name of Fathers or Sirs^
A more affe£lionate Salutation between Lovers.
God fave you my little Cornelia, my Life, my Light, my De-
light, my Sweet-heart, my only Pleafure, my. little Heart, my
Hppe, my Comfort, my Glory.
Either for the Sake of Honour or otherwife,
Sal O Mafter, God blefs ye. Anf Oh ! Good Sir, I widi
you the fame. Sal. God blefs you moft accompliili'd, and mofl:
[i] Erafmus delights in diminutive Nouns.
[z] Aiiuti is not here to be taken in a bad Scnfe'j both Erafmus and Tt:-
rence ufe it for Uti.
[3] It is a Greek Word , fignifying O old Man ; a Title frequent among
tlis Hebrews^ Lfiisdmomns, a«d Bitnanh
famous
famous Sir. God blefs you again and again thou Glory of
Learning. God fave you heartily roy very good Friend. God
fave you my [i] Mecanas. Avf. God fave you my fingular
Patron. God fave you, moft approved Sir. God fave you,
the only Ornament of this Age. God blefs you, the Delight
of Germany. Sal. God blefs you all together. God blefs you
all ahke. Anf God blefs you my brave Boys. Sal. God
fave you merry Companion. God blefs you Deftroyer of
Wine. Anf. God blefs you Glutton, and unmerciful De-
vourer of Cakes. Sal. God blefs you heartily Prefidcnt of all
Virtue, Anf. God'blefs you in like manner. Pattern of uni-
verfal Honeily. Sal. God fave you lirde old Woman of Fif-
teen Years of Age. Anf God fave you Girl, Eighty Years
old. Sal. Much good may it do you with your bald Pate.
iAnf. And much good may it do you wich your flit Nofe.
As you falute, fo you fliall be faluted again. If you fay that
which is ill, you Hiall hear that which is worfe. Sal. God
fave you again and again. Anf. God fave you for ever and
ever. Sal. God flive you more than a thoufand times. Anf
In truth I had rather be well once for all. Sal. God blefs
you as much as you can defire. Anf. And you as much as
you deferve. Sal. I wifli you well. Anf But what if I won't
be fo .? In truth I had rather be fick, than :o enjoy the Health
that you want.
God blefs your Holinefs,
Your Greatnefs,
Your Highnefsi
Your Majefly,
Your Beaticude,
Your High Mightinefs,
are Salutations rather us'd by
the Vulgar, than approved
by the Learned.
In the Third 'P effort.
Sapidus wifhes Health to his 'Erafifius.
Sapidus falutes his Beatus, wifhing him much Health.'
Another Form.
Sal. God blefs you Crito, I wifh you well good Sir. Anf
And I wifh you better. Peace be to thee Brother, is indeed
a Chriflian Salutation, borrow'd from the yews j but yet not
[i] Mofl: learned and illuftrious Patron, for Mec^enas was a Patron a-
mong the learned Men, and a great Favourite of Augujiui Ciejar.
B a to
[4]
to be rejeded. And of the like kind i?, A happy Life to youl
■Hail Maflcr, ^^^f. In truth I had rather have than crave,
[i] X(w?s- -^»f Remember you are at Bafil, and not at
Athens, how do you then dare to fpeak Latin when you are
not at 'Rome ?
Forms of TVell-'wifilng,
. And to wifli well is a fort of Salutation.
To a Woman 'with Child,
God fend you a good Delivery, and that you may make
your Husband Father of a fine Child. May the Virgin Mother
make you a happy Mother. I wifh that this fwell'd Belly rpay
affvvage happily. Heaven grant that this Burthen you carry,
whatfoever it is, may have as eafy an out-coming as it had an
in-going. God give you a good Time.
To Guefls.
Happy be this Feafli. Much Good may it do all the Com-
pany. I wiiTi all Happinefs to you all. God give you a hap-
py Banquet.
To one that fneezes.
May it be lucky and happy to you. God keep you. May
it be for your Health. God blefs it to you.
7(? one that is about to hegin any Biifmefs.
May it prove happy and profperous for the Publick Good.
May that you are gorng about be an univerfal Good. God
profper what you are abou". God blefs your Labours. God
blefs your Endeavours. I pray that by God's Affiftance you
may happily finifh what you have begun. May Chrift in
Heaven profper what is under your Hand. May what you
have begun end happily. May what you are fet about end
happily. You are about a good Work, I wiili you a good
End of it, and that propitious Heaven snay favour your pious
Undertakings. Chrift give Profperity to your Enterprise.
May what you have undertaken profper. I heartily beg of
{i] Xaifi comes from Xst/fa j to rejoice,
Almighty
Almighty God that this Defign may be as fuccef^ful as it is
honourable. May the Affair fo [i] happily begun, more hap-
pily end. I wiOi you a good Journey to Italy:^ and a better
Return. I vvirti you a happy Voyage, and a more happy R.e-
turn. I pray God that, this Journey being happily perfcrm'd,
we may in a fhort Time have the Opportunity of congratu-
lating you upon your happy Return. May it be your good
Fortune to make a good Voyage thither and back again. May
your Journey be pleafanr, but your Return more pleafant. I
wifli this Journey may fucceed according to your Hearts De-
fire. I wifh this Journey may be as pleafant to you, as the
want of your good Company in the mean time will be trou-
blefome to us. May you fet Sail with promifing Prefages. I
widi this Journey may fucceed according to both our VVifhes.
I wifh this Bargain may be for the Good and Advantage of
us both. I widi this may be a hapj^y Match to us all. The
bleffed Jefus God keep thee. Kind Heaven return you fafe.
God keep thee who art one half of my Life. I wifh you a
fate Return. I willi that this New- Year may begin happily,
go on more happily, and end moft happily to you, and thac
you may have many of them, and every Year happier than
other. A72f. And I again wifli you many happy Ages, thac
you mayn't wifh well to me gratis. I wifh you a [2] glori-
ous Day to Day. May this Sun-rifing be a happy one to you.
Anf I wifh you the fame. May this be a happy and a pro-
fperous Morning to both of us. Father, I wifli you a good
Night. I wifh you good Repofe to Night. May you Ikep
Iweedy. God give you good Reft. May you lleep without
dreaming. God fend you miay either fleep fweecly or dreara
pleafantly. A good Night to you. Anf Since you always
love to be on the getting Hand, I wifli you a thoufand Hap-
pinefTes to one you willi to me.
Farewell at parting. ■
Fare ye all well. Farewell. Take care of your Health.
Take a great Care of your Health. I bid you good by. Time
calls me away, fare ye well. I wifli you as well as may be.
[l] Bonis A'vihus.'\ A Phrafe taken from the Auguries, for the Augurs
usM to forete] future Things by the fiying, finging, and feeding of Birds.
[2] Candidas.'^ This is taken from the Cuftom of the. .'Ihracian:, who
«fed to mark a fortunate Day with White, and an unfortunate one with
black.
B 3 Farewel
in
Farewel [i] mightily, or if you had rather have it fo, iuftily.
Fare you well as you are worthy. Fare you as well as you
deferve Farewel for thefe two Days. If you fend me away,
farewel till to-morrow. Would you have any thing with me ?
Have you any thing elfe to fay to me ? yinf. Nothing but to
wifh you well. Take care to preferve your Health. Take
care of your Health. Look well to your Health. See that at
the next Meeting we fee you merry and hearty. I charge
you make much of your felf. See that you have a found
"Mind in a healthful Body. Take care you be univerfally well
bo:h in Body and Mind. ^nf. Til promife you I will do my
Endeavoar. Sal. Fare you well alfo^ and I again wifh yoa
profperous Health.
Of fainting by another.
Sal. Remember my hearty Love to Frohfiius. Be fure to
remember my Love to litde Eraf?mts. Remember me to
Gertrude's Mother with all imaginable Refped; tell them I
■wilh 'em all well. Remember me to my old Companions.
Remember me to my Friends. Give my Love to my Wife.
Remember me to your Brother in your Letter. Remember
my Love to my Kinfman. Have you any Service to com-
mand by me to your Friends } Aiif Tell them I wiih them
all heartily well. Have you any Recommendations to fend
by me to your Friends } Anf. Much Health to them all, but
efpecially to my Father. Are there any Perfons to whom you
would command me any Service? To all that ask how I do.
The Health you have brought from my Friends to me, carry
back again with much Intereft. Carry my hearty Service to
all them that have fcnt their Service to me. Pray do fo much
as be my Reprelentative in faluting my Friends. I would have
written to my Son-in-law, but you will ferve meinflead of a
L'.'iter to him. Soho, foho, whither are you going fo fall?
Avf. Strait to Lovain. Stay a little, I have foroething to fend
by you. Anf. But it is inconvenient for a Footman to carry
a Fardel. What is it ? Avf. That you recommend me to
Goclenm, Rutgerus, John Campenfis , and all the Society of
[i] Par.cratice.'\ Luftily, of the Greek wetiTu, all Things; and n^dLTiiv,
to obtain. The Greeks had five Sorts of Exercifes, Running, Quoit-playing,
Leaping, Wrcftling, and Handy-cuffs j and whofoever came off Viftor in all
thefe Exercifes was called Tturrax^wxa^M, which no Body could do unlefs he
was in a confirmed State of Healtji, '
[i] Trilinguifts.
C7]
[i] Trllinguifts, Anf. If you put nothing into my Snapfack
but Healths, I fhall carry them with Eafe. Sal. And that
you may not do that for nothing, I pray that Health may be
your Companion both going and coming back.
How we ought to congratulate one that is returned from
a journey,
Sal. We are glad you are come well Home. It is a Plea-
fure that-you are come Home fafe. It is a Pleafure to us that
you are come well Home. We congratulate your happy Re-
turn. We give God Thanks that you are come fafe Home
to us. The more uneafy we were at the want of you, the
more glad we are to fee you again. VVe congratulate you and
ourfelves too that you are come Home to us alive and well.
Your Return is the more pleafant by how much it was leis
expected. Anf. I am glad too that as I am well myfelf I find
you fo. I am very glad to find you in good Heakh. I (hould
not have thought mvfelf well come Home if I had not found
you'v/ell j but now I thinly myfelf fafe, in that I fee you fafe
and in good Health.
A Form of asking ^uefiions at the firfi meeting.
The Argument.
27^/5 Colloquy teaches Forms of enquiring at the firfi
meeting. PVhence come you ? What Neivs bring you ?
Hoiv do you do ? &c.
GEORGE, LIVINUS.
GEORGE. Out of what Hen-Coop or Cave came you?
Liv. Why do you ask me fuch a Queftion '? Ge. Becaufe
you have been fo poorly fed ; you are fo thin a body may lee
thro' you, and as dry as a Kecks. Whence came you from ?
Liv. From Montacute College. Ge. Then fure you are come
loaden with Letters for us. Liv. Not fo, but wkh Lice come
f i] That oiiderftood three Tongues, Hebrew, Creek, and Latin,
B 4 lam.'
[8]
I am. Ge. Well then you had Company enough. L/'y/Tri''
truih it is not .{afe for a Traveller now-a-days to go withod't
Company. Ge. I know well enough a Loufe is a Scholar'^
Companion. Weil but do you bring any News from Paris'?
LiTJ. Ay, I do, and that in the firll place that I know you
won't believe. At Paris a [i] Bete is wife, and an Oak prea-
ches. Gc. What's that you tell me ? Liv. That which you
hear. Ge. What is it I hear? Liv. That which I tell you.
Gi. O monftrous ! Sure Mufhrooms and Stones muft be the
Hearers where there are fuch Preachers. Liv. Well, but it
is even Co as I tell you ; nor do I fpeak only by heariay, but
Vv'hat I knov/ to be true Ge. Sure Men muft needs be very
wife there v/here Betes and Oaks are fo. Liv. You are in the
right on'c.
Of enquiring concerning Health.
Ge. Are you well ? Ltv. Look in my Face. Ge. Why do
you not rather bid me cafl your Water .^ Do you take me
for a Doctor } I don't ask you if you are in Health, for your
Face befpeaks you fo to be ; but I ask you how you like your
own Condition } Liv. I am very well in my Body, but fick
in my Mind. Ge. He's not well indeed that is fick in thac
Pare. Liv. This is my Caie, I'm well in my Body, but fick
in my Pocket. Ge. Your Mother will eafily cure that Di-
ll:emper. How have you done for this long Time } Liv.
Sometimes better, and fometimes worie, as human Affairs
commonly go. Ge. Are you very well in liealth ? Are your
Affairs i;i a good Condition } Are your Circumllances as you
V'Guld have them .? Have you always had your Health well ?
Liv. Very well, I thank God , By God's Goodnefs I have
always had my Health very well. I have always been very
we'l hitherto, I have been in very good, favourable, fecure,
happy, profperous, fuccefsful, perfect Health, like a Prince,
like a Champion, fit for any thing. Ge. God fend you may
always enjoy the fame. I am glad to hear it. You give me
a PlsafLire in faying fo. It is very pleafant to me to hear that.
I am glad at my Heart to hear this from you. This is no bad
News to me. I am exceeding glad to hear you fay fo. I
wifh you may be fo always. I wiili you may enjoy the fame
Health as long as you live. In congratulating you, I joy my
[i] There were at that time fit Paris two Mafters of Note , nam'd
Dc Bete and Dti Ctefn^y which Erafmus calls by the Latin Names of Bira
and Shicrcus, a ^etc and an Ouk.
felf.
felf. Thanks to Heaven for it. Li. Indeed I am very well
if- you are fo. Ge. Welh but have you met with no trouble
all this while ? Li. None but the want of your good Com-
pany, Ge. Well, but ho\v do you do though? Li. Well
enoufi^h, finely, bravely, very well as may be, very well indeed,
happily, commodioufly, no way amifs. I enjoy rather what
Health I wifli, than what I defervtd. ' Princely, Herculean,
Champion like, Ge. I was expedting when you would fay Bull
like too.
Of being III.
Ge. Are you in p;ood Health ? Li. I wifh I were. Not al-
together fo well as I would be. Indeed I am fo, fo. Pretty
well. I am as well as I can be, fince I can'r be fo well as I
would be. jA®I ufetobe. So as it pleafes God. Truly noc
very well. Never worfe in all my Life. As I am wont to be.
I am as they ufe to be who have to do with the Dodor.
Ge. How do you do.? Li. NotasI would do. Ge. Why truly
not well, ill, very ill, in an unhappy, unprofperous, unfavou-
rable, bad, adverfe, unlucky, feeble, dubious, indifferent.
State of Health, not at all as I would, a tolerable, fuch as I
would not wifh even to my Enemies. Ge. You tell me a me-
lancholy Story. Heavehs forbid it. God forbid. No more of
that I pray. I widi what you fay were not true. But you muft
be of good Chear, you mail: pluck up a good Heart, A good
Heart is a good Help in bad Circumftances, You muft bear
up your Mind with the Hope of better Fortune, What Diftem-
per is it? What fort of Difeafe is it? What Diftemper is ic
that afflids you ? What Diflemper are you troubled with?
«JL/. I can't tell, and in that my Condition is the more dan-
gerous. Ge. That's true, for when the Difeafe is known, it is
half cured. Have you had the Advice of any Doctor ? Li. Ay,
of a great many. Ge. What do they fay to your Cafe ? Li. W hat
the Lawyers of Demtphon (in the Play j faid to him. One fays
one Thing, another he fays another, and the third he'll confider
of it. But they all agree in this, that I am in a fad Condition.
Ge. How longjiave you been taken with this Illnels? How long
have you been ill of this Diftemper ? How long has this lUnefs
feiz'd you? Li. About twenty Days more or lefs, almoft a
Month. It's now near three Months. It feems an Age to me
Hnce I was firft taken ill, Ge. But I think you ought to take
-care that the Diftemper don't grow upon you. Li. Ic has grown
too much upon me already. Ge. h it a Dropfy ? Li. They
fay
[ >° ]
fay it is not. Ge. Is it a DifTenrery ? Li. I think not Gel
Is it a Fever ? Li. I believe it is a Kind of a Fever j but a
new one, as ever and anon nev/ ones fpring up that were
unknov/n before. Ge. There were more old ones than enough
before. Li. Thus it pleafes Nature to deal with us, Vv'hich
is a little too feverc. Ge. How often does the Fit come ?
Li. How ofcen do you fay ? Every Day, [i] nay every Hour
indeed. Ge. O wonderful ! It is a fad Afflidion. How did
you get this Diftemper ? How do you think you came by it?
Li. By Reafon of Want. Ge. Why you don't ufe to be fo
fuperftkious as to ftarve your felf with fading. Li. It is not
Bigotry but Penury. Ge. What do you mean by Penury ?
IJ. I mean I could get no Viduals, I believe it came by a
Cold. I fancy I got the Diftemper by eating rotten Eggs,
By drinking too much Water in my Wine. This crudity in
my Stomach came by eating green Apples. Ge. But confider
whether you han't contradted this Diftemper by long and late
Studying, by hard Drinking, or immoderate ^ of Venery ?
Why don'c you fend for a Dodtor.^^ Li. I am afraid he fhould
do me more harm than good. I am afraid he fhould Poifon
me inftead of curing me. Ge. You ought to chufe one that
.you can confide in. Li. If I muft dye, I had rather dye
once for all, than to be tormented with fo many Slops.
Ge. Well then, be your own Dodor, If you can't truft to
a Do6tor, pray God be your Phyfician. There have been
fome that have recover'd their Health, by putting on a Domi-
nican or a Francifcan Fryars Cowl. Li. And perhaps it had
been the fame Thing, if they had put on a Whore-mafter's
Cloak. Thefe things have no EfFeft upon thofe that have
no Faith in 'em. Ge. Why then, believe that you may reco-
ver. Some have been cur'd by making Vows to a Saint. Li.
But I have no Dealings widi Saints. Ge. Then pray to Chrift
that you may have Faith, and that he would be pleafed to
beftow the Bleffing of Health upon you. Li. I can't tell whe-
ther it would be a Bleffing or no. Ge. Why, is it not a Blef-
fing to be freed from a Diftemper ? Li. Sometimes it is bet-
ter to dye. I ask nothing of him, but only that he'd give me
what would be beft for me. Ge. Take Ibmething to purge
you. Li. I am Laxative enough already. Ge. Take fome-
thing to make you go to Stool. You muft take a Purge.
Li. I ought to take fomeching that is binding rather, for I am
too Laxative.
[i] Euripus was a Strait or Arm of the Sea, betwixt Eubea, and Bottbia in
Ciace. that ufed to ebb and flow feven Times a Day.
Of
[ " 1
Of enquiring of a Perfon upon his Return.
The Argument.
Of interrogating a Perfon returning from ajourney^ con-
cerning ff'^ar^ private Affairs^ a Difappointment^ great
Promifes^ a Wife Lying-in^ Dangers^ Loffes^ &c.
GEOV-GE, Have you had a good and profperons Jour-
ney? L?. Pretty good j bucthai there is fuch robbing every
where. Ge. This is the Effedt of War. U. It is fo, but it is
3" wicked one. Ge. Did you come on Foot or on Horfe-back ?
lui. Part of the Way a Foot, Part in a Coach^ Part on Horfe-
back, and Part by Sea. Ge. How go Matters in France ? Li.
All's in Confufion, there's nothing but War talk'd of. What
Mifchiefsthey may bring upon their Enemies Iknownotj but
this I'm fure of, the French themfelves are afflided with uney-
preffible Calamities. Ge. Whence come all thefe tumultuary
Wars? Li. Whence fhould they come but from the Ambition
of Monarchs. Ge. Bat it would be more their Prudence to
appeafe thefe Storms of human Affairs. Li. Appeafe'em! Ay,
{o they do, as the South Wind does the Sea. They fancy them-
felves to be Gods, and that the World was made for their Sakes.
Ge. Nay, rather a Prince was made for the good of the Com-
monwealth, and not the Commonwealth for the Sake of the
Prince. Li. Nay, there are Clergymen too, whoblow uptlie
Coals, and found an Alarm to thefe Tumults. Ge. I'd have
them fet in the Front of the Battel. Li. Ay, ay, but they rake
care to keep out of Harm's Way. Ge. But let us leave thefe
publick Affairs to Providence. How go your ov/n Matters?
Li. Very well, happily, indifferently well, tolerably. Ge. How
goes it with your own Bufinefs ? As you would have it. Li. Nay,
better than I could have wifli'd for, better than I deferve,
beyond what I could have hop'd for. Ge. Are all things ac-
cording to your Mind ? Is all well ? Has every Thing fuc-
ceeded ? Li. It can't be worfe. It is impodible it (hould be
worfe than it is. Ge. What then, hin't you got what you
fought for? Han't you caught the Game you hunted? Li.
Hunt! Ay, I did hunt indeed, but with very [i] ill Succeis.
Ge. But is there no Hope then ? Li. Hope enough, but no-
[i] Delia is the Goddefs of hunting, l"o called of the Illand Deios, where fhc
}-; faid to have been born»
2 thing
[I.]
thing elfe. Ge. Did the Birtiop give you no Hopes? LL
Yes, whole Cart Loads, and whole Ship Loads of Hopej
but nothing elfe. Ge. Has he fent you nothing yet? Li.
He promis'd me largely, but he has never fent me a Far-
thing. Ge. Then you muft live in Hopes. Li. Ay, but that
•won't fill the Belly ; they that feed upon Hope, may be faid to
hang, but not to live. Ge. But however then, you were the
lighter for travelling, not having your Pockets loaded. Li,
I confefs that, nay, and fafer tooj for an empty Pocket is
the beft Defence in the World againft Thieves j but for all
that, I had rather have the Buidien and the Danger too. Ge.
You was not robb'd of any Thing by the Way, I hope?
Li. Robb'd ! What can you rob a Man of that has nothing?
There was more Reafon for other Folks to be afraid of me,
than I of them, having never a Penny in my Pocket. I might
ling and be ftarved all the Way I went. Have you any thing
more to fay? Ge. Where are you going now? Li. Strait
Home, to fee how all do there, vv'hom I han't fcen this
long Time. Ge. I wifli you may find all well at Home.
Li. I pray God I may. Has any thing new happen'd at our
Houfe fince I went away ? Ge. Nothing but only you'll find
your Family bigger than it was j for your Catu/a has brought
you a litde Catuius fince you have been gone. Your Hen
has laid you an Egg. Li. That's good News, I like your
News, and I'll promiletogiveyouaGofpel for it. Ge. What
Gofpel ? The Gofpel according to St. Matthew ? Li. No,
but according to Ho7ner. Here take it. Ge. Keep your Gof-
pel to your felf, I have Stones enough at Home. Li. Don't
fl'ght my Prefent, it is the Eagle's Stone ; It is good for
Women with Child ^ it's good to bring on their Labour.
Ge. Say you fo ? Then it is a very acceptable Prefent to me,
and I'll endeavour to make you Amends. Li- The Amends
is made already by your kind Acceptance. Ge. Nay, nothing
in the World could come more feafonably, for my Wife's
Belly is up to her Mouth almoft. Li. Then I'll make this
Bargain with you ; that if fhe has a Boy, you fhall let me be
the Godfather. Ge. Well I'll promife you that, and that you
fhall Name it too. Li. I wifh it may be for both our good-
Ge. Nay, for all our good.
MJURICE, CTPRIJN. ,
Ma. You are come back fatter than you ufed to be : You
are returned taller. Cy. But in truth I had rather it had been
- - ' wifer*
C '3 ]
wifer, or more learned. Ma. You had no Eeatd when you
went away i but you have brought a little one back with you.
You are grown fotnewhatholdifh iince you v/ent away. Whac
makes you lock fo pale, fo lean, lb wrinkled .? Cy. As is my
Fortune, io is the Habit of my Body. Ma. Has it been biic
bad then ? Cy. She never is othervvife to me, but never vvorfe in
my Life than now. Ma. I am forry for that. I am forry for'
your Misfortune. But pray, what is this Mifchance .^ Cy. I
have loft all my Money.' Ma. What in the Sea? Cy. No,
on Shore, before I went aboard. Ma. Where .^Cy. Upon
the Englijb Coaft. Ma. It is well you fcap'd with your Life ^
it is better to lofe your Money , than that ^ the lofs of ones
good Name, is worie than the Lofs of Money. Cy. My Life
and Reputation are fafej but my Money is loft. Ma. Thg
Lofs of Life never can be repair'd j the Lofs of Reputation
very hardly j but the Lofs of Money may eafily be made up
one Way or another. But how came it about.' Cy. I cau'c
tell, unlefs it was my Defbiny. So it pleas'd God. As the
[i] Devil would have it. Ma. Now you fee that Learning
and Virtue are the fafeft Riches ; for as they can't be takea
from a Man, fo neither are they burthenfome to him that car-
ries them. Cy. Indeed you Philofophize very vvellj but in ihs
mean Time I'm in Perplexity.
CLAUD lUS, BALBUS.
Cl I am glad to fee you v/ell come Home Balbus. Bal
And 1 to fee you alive Claudim. Cl. You are welcome
Home into your own Country again. Ba. You fhould rather
congratulate mie as a Fugitive from Vrance. Cl. Why fo ^
Ba. Becaufe they are all up in Arms there. Cl. Butvvhan
have Scholars to do with Arms. Ba. But there they don't
fpare even Scholars. Cl. It is well you're got off dk. Ba.
But I did not get ofF without Danger neither. Cl. You are
come back quite another Man than you went away. Ba.
Howfo? Cl. Why, of a Dutch Man, you are become a
French Man. Ba. Why was I a [2] Capon when I went
away? C/. Your Drefi fhows that you're turn'd from zButch
Man into a Wrench Man. Ba. I had rather fuxFer this Meta-
morphofis, than to be turn'd into a Hen. But as a Cowl does
[i] The Ancient Pagans afcribed tv\^o Genius's to every Man, one of which
they fancied ftudied to do him Good, and the other to do him Harm.
[2] Eraj'mus here plays upon the double Significp.tion of the Latin Word Gal-
hi, which fignifies both a Frenchman and a Ccck.
not
[>4]
not mske a Monk, fo neither does a Garment a Frenchman.
Cl. Have you learn'd to fpeak French"^ Ba. Indifferently well.
Cl. How did you learn it ? Ba. Of Teachers that were no
Dumb ones I aflure you. C/.'From whom? Ba. Of little
Women, more full of Tongue, than Turtle Doves. Cl. It
is eafy to learn to fpeak in fuch a School. Do you pronounce
the French well ? Ba. Yes, that I do, and I pronounce Latin
after the French Mode. Cl. Then you will never write good
Verfes. Ba. Why fo ? Cl. Becaufe you'll make falfe Quanti-
ties. Ba. The Quality is enough for me. Cl. Is Farts clear
of the Plague? Ba. Not quite, but it is not continual, fome-
times it abates, and anon it returns again j fometimes it flack-
ens, and then rages again. Cl. Is not War it felf Plague enough ?
Ba It is fo, unjefs God thought otherwife. Cl. Sure Bread
muft be very dear there. Ba. There is a great Scarcity of it.
There is a great want of every Thing but wicked Soldiers.
Good Men are wonderful cheap there. Cl. What is in the
Mind of the French to go to War with the Germans ? Ba. They
have a mind to imitate the Beetle, that won't give Place to the
Eagle. Every one thinks himfelf an Hercules in War. Cl. I
won't detain you any longer, at fome other Time we'll divert
our felves more largely, when we can both fpare Time. Ac
prefent I have a little Bufinefs that calls me to another Place.
FAMILY DISCOURSE.
The Argument.
This Colloquy prefejtti us with the Sayings and Jokes of
intimate Acquaintance^ and the Repartees andBehavi'
our of familiar Friends one with another, i . Of walk*
ing abroadry and callingCompanions. i. Of feldom i?/*
fiting^ of asking comerning a JVife^ Daughter^ Sons*
3 . Concerning Leifure^ the tingling of the Ear., the
JDefcription of a homely Maid, Invitation to a JVed*
ding. 4. Of Studying too hardy &c.
PETER, MIDAS, a Boy, JODOCUS.
PE TE R, Soho, foho. Boy ! does no Body come to the
Door? M. I think this Fellow will beat the Door down.
Sure he muft needs be fome intimate Acquaintance or other.
O old
['5 3
O old Friend Peter, what haft brought ? Pe. M7 felf. Mi. In
truth then you have brought that which is not much worth.
Pe. But I'm fure I coft my Father a great deal. Mi. I believe
foi more than you can be fold for again, Pe. But is Jodoan
at Home? Mi. I can't tell, but I'll go fee. Pe. Go in firft,
and ask him if he pleafes to be at home now. Mi. Go your
felf, and be your [i] own Errand Boy. Pe. Soho! Jodocus,
are you at home ? Jo. No, I am not. Pe. Oh ! You im-
pudent Fellow ! don*t I hear you fpeak ? Jo. Nay, you are
more impudent, for I took your Maid's Word for it lately,
that you were not at home, and you won't believe me my
felf. Pe. You're in the right on't, you've ferv'd me in my
own kind, Jo. [2] As I deep not for every Body, fo I am
not at home to every Body, but for Time to come fhall always
beat home to you. Pe. Mechinks you live the Life of a Snail.
Jo. Why fo .? Pe. Becaufe you keep always at home and
never ftir abroad, juft like a lame Cob'er always in his Stall.
You fit at home till your Breech grows to your Seat, Jo.
At home I have fomethins; to do, but I have no Bufinefs
abroad, and if I had, the Weather we have had for feveral
Days paft, would have kept me from going abroad. Pe.
But now it is fair, and would tempt a Body to walk our, fee
h(DW charming pleafant it is, Jo. If you have a Mind to
walk I won't be againft ir. Pe. In Truth, I think we ought
to take the Opportunity of this fine Weather, Jo. But we
ought to get a merry Companion or two, to go along with
us. Pe. So we will ; but tell me who you'd have then.
Jo. What if we fliould get Hugh ? Pe. There is no great Dif-
ference between Hugo and Nugo. Jo. Come on then I like
it mighty well. Pe. What if we (houldcsM A I ardus? Jo. He's
no dumb Man I'll affure you, what he wants in Hearing he'll
make up in Talking. Pe. If you will, we'll get Navius along
with us too. Jo. If we have but him, we fhall never wane
merry Stories. I like the Company mainly, the next Thing
is to pitch upon a pleafant Place. Pe. I'll fhow you a Place
where you iliall neither want the Shade of a Grove, nor the
pleafant Verdure of Meadows, nor the purling Streams of
Fountains, you'll fay it is a Place worthy of the Mufes them-
[i] Mercury is feigned to be the Mefienger or Footman of the Gcds,
[2] This relates to the Story of one Galba, who having invited Medeitas to
an Entertainment, who was in love with his Wife ; when the Feaft was over
he feigned himfelf to be afleep, that Mecanas might have an Opportunity to
do what he would with her ; but a Servant coming to fteal away fome of the
Wine, he fays to him r.on omnibus dtrmio, I don't fleep for to give every Body an
Opportunity.
felves.
[ l6 ]
felves. Jo. You proraife nobly. Pe. You are too intent upcri
your Books j you fit too clofe to yoar Books j you make your
lelf lean with immoderate Study. ^0. I had rather grow lean
with Study than v.'ich Love. Pe. Wc don't live to ftudy, bun
we therefore ftudy that we may live pleafantly. • ^o. Indeed I
could live and dye in my Study. Pe. I approve well enough
cf fludying hardj but not to ftudy my felf to Death. Pe. Has
this Walk pleas'd you? ^o. It has been a charming plea-
fant one.
2. GILES, LEONARD.
Gi. Where is our Leonardo, going? Le. I was coming to
you. Gi. That you do but feldom. Le. Whyfo? Gi. Be-
caufe you h^n't been to fee me this tv/elve Months. Le. 1
had rather err on that Hand to be wanted, than to be
tirefome. Gi. I am never tired with the Company of a good
Friend : Nay, the oftner you come the more welcome yoa
are. Le. But by the Way, how goes Matters at your Houfe.
Gi. Why truly not many Things as I would have them. Le.
I don't wonder at that, but is your Wife brought to Bed yet ?
Gi. Ay, a great while ago, and had two at a birth too.
Le. How, two at once ! Gi. 'Tis as I tell you, and more
than that fhe's vvith Child again. Le. That's the way to in-
creafe your Family. Gi. Ay, but I wifti Fortune would en-
creafe my Money as much as my Wife does my Fan:^ily.
Le. Have you difpofed of your Daughter yet ? Li. No, not
yet. Le. 1 would have you confider if it be not hazardous to
keep fuch a great Maid as fhe at home, you Ihould look out for
a Husband for her. Gi. There's no need of that, for fhe has
Sv;/eet-hearts enough already, Le. But why then don't you
fingle out one for her, him that you like the beft ot them?
Gi. They are all fo good that I can't tell which to chufe:
But my Daughter won't hear of marrying. Le. How fay
you! If I am not miftaken, flie has been marriageable
for fome Time. She has been fit for a Husband a
great while, ripe for Wedlock, ready for a Husband this
great while. Gi. Why not, <"he is above feventeen, flic's a-
bove two and twenty, flie's in her nineteenth Year, flie's a-
bove eighteen Years old. Le. But why is flie averfc to Mar-
riage? Gi. She fays flie has a Mind to be married to Chrift.
Le. In Truth he has a great many Brides. But is flie mar-
ried to an evil Genius that lives chaftly with a Husband ? Gi.
I don't
[ '7 ]
1 don't think Co. Le. How came that Whimfey into her Head ?
Gi. I can't tell, but there's no perfaading her out of it by all
that can be faid to her. Le. You fhould take care that there
be no Trickfters that inveagle or draw ber away. Gi. I know
thefe , Kidnappers well enough, and I drive this kind of Cattei
as far from my Houfe as I can. Le. But what do you intend
to do then ? Do you intend to let her have her Humour ?
Gi. No, I'll prevent it if pofTible j I'll try every Method to
alter her Mind ; but if fhe pqrfifts in ir, I'll not force her a-
gainft her Will, left I lliould be found to fight againft God,
or rather to fight againft the Monks. Le. Indeed you fpeak
very religioiifly ; but take care to try her Conftancy through-
ly, left fhe fhould afterwards repent it, when it is too late.
Gi. I'll do my utmoft Endeavours. Le. V/hat Employmenn
do your Sons follow ? Gi. The eldeft has been marfied this '
good while, and will be a Father in a little time ; I have fenc
the youngeft away to Paris, for he did nothing but play v/hile
he was here. Le. Why did you fend him thither.? G/'. That
he might come back a greater Fool than he went. Le. Don't
talk fo. Gi. The middlemoft has lately enter'd into holy Or-
ders. Le. 1 wifh 'em all well.
3. MOPSUS, DROMO.
Mo. How is it ? What are you doing Drotno ? Dr. I'm fit-
ting ftill. Mo. 1 fee that ; but how do Matters go with you ?
Dr. As they ufe to do with unfortunate Perfons. Mo. God
forbid that that fhould be your Cafe. But what are you do-
ing.? Dr. I am idling., as you fee j doing juft nothiij? at all.
Mo. It is better to be idle than doing of nothings it'^rnay be
I interrupt you, being employ'd in (bmc Matters of Confe-
quence.? Dr. No, really, entirely at leifurcj I juft began to
be tir'd of being alone, and was wJlliing for a merry Compa-
nion. Mo. It may be I hinder, interrupt, difturb you, being
about fome Bufinefs? Dr. No, you divert me, being tired
with being idle. Mo. Pray pardon me if I have interrupted
you unfeafonably. Dr. Nay, you came very feafonably j you
are come in the Nick of Time; I was juft now wifliing for
youi I am extreme glad of your Company. Mo. It may be
you are about fome (erious Bufinefs, that I would by no means
interrupt or hinder.? Dr. Nay, rather it is according to the
old Proverb, Talk of the Devil and he'll appear ; for we were
juft now fpeaking of you. Mo. In fhort, I believe you were,
for my Ear tingled mightily as I came along. Dr. Which
C Eac
[i8]
Ear was it ? Mo. My left, from which I guefs there was no
Good faid of me. Dr. Nay, I'll aiTure you there was no-
thing but Good faid. Mo. Then the old Proverb is not true.
But" what good News have you.? Dr. They fay you are be-
come a Huntfman. Mo. Nay, more than that, I have gotten
the Game now in my Nets that I have been hunting after.
Dr. What Game is it ? Mo. A pretty Girl, that I am to mar-
ry in a Day or twoj and I intreat you to honour me with
your good Company at my Wedding. Dr. Pray, who is
your Bride ? Me. Alice, the Daughter of Chremes. Dr. You
are a rare Fellow to chufe a Beauty for one ! Can you fancy
that Black-a-top, Snub-nos'd, Sparrow-mouth'd, Paunch-bel-
ly'd Creature. Mo. Prithee hold thy Tongue, I marry her to
pleafe myfelf, ahd not you. Pray, is it not enough that I like
her } The lefs fhe pleafes you, the more (he'll pleafe me.
4. STRUS, GE'TA.
Sy. I wifli you much Happinefs. Ge. And I wifh you dou-
ble what you wilh me. Sy. What are you doing } Ge. I am
talking. Sy. What! By yourfelf? Ge. As you fee. Sy. It may
be you are talking to yourfelf, and then you ought to fee to it
that you talk to an honefl Man. Ge. Nay, J am converfing
with a very facetious Companion. Sy. With whom ? Ge.
With Apulelus. Ge. That I think you are always doing, but
the Mufes love Intermiffion ; you fludy continually. Ge. I
am never tired with Study. Sy. It may be fo, but yet you
ought to fet Bounds j though Study ought not to be omitted,
yet it ought foraetimes to be intermitted ^ Studies are not to
be quite thrown afide, yet they ought for a while to be laid
afidej there is nothing pleafant that wants Variety j the fel-
domer Pleafures are made ufe of the pleafanter they are. You
do nothing elfe but ftudy. You are always ftudying. You are
continually at your Books. You read inceffantly. You ftudy
Night and Day. You never are buS?a ftudying. You are con-
tinually at your Study. You are always intent upon your Books.
You know no End of, nor fet no Bound to Study. You give
yourfelf no Reft from your Studies. You allow yourfelf no
Intermiifion in, nor ever give over ftudying. Ge. Very well !
This is like you. You banter me as you ufe to do. You
make a Game of me. You joke upon me. You fatyri2.e me.
You treat me with a Sneer. I fee how you jeer me well e-
nough. You only jeft with me. I am your Laughing-ftock.
3 I am
L ^9 1
I am laugh'd at by you. You make yourfelf merry with me^
You make a meer Game and Sport ot me. Why doirt you
put me on Affes Ears too? My Books, that are all ovcrdufty
and mouldy, fiiew how hard a Readier I am, Sj. Let me die
if I don't fpeak my Mind. Let me periih if I don't Ibeak as
I think. Let me not laws if I diiTemble. I fpeak what [ rhink.
I fpeak the Truth I fpeak (eriouUy. 1 fpeak from my Heart.
I fpeak nothing but what I think.
Why don't you come to fee me ?
Ge. What's th^ matter you ha'n't come to fee me all this
while? What's che matter you vifit me fo feldom ? Whac has
happen'd to you Chat you never have com.e at me for fo long
Time ? Why are you fo feidora a Vifitor ? What is the mean-
ing that you never come near one for fo long Time ? What
has hinder'd you that you have come to fee me no ofcner ?
What has prevented you that you have never let me have the
Opportunity of feeing you for this long Time?
I could not by reafon of Biifmcfs.
Sy. I had not Leifure. I would have come, but I could
not for my Bulinefs, Bufinefs would not permii: me hirherco
to come to fee you. Thefe Floods of Bufinefs that I have
been plung'd in would not permit me to pay my Refpec5ts to
you. I have been fo bufy I could not come. I have been
harafs'd with fo many vexatious Matters t!iat I could not gee
an Opportunity. I have been fo caken up wich a rroublefome
Bufinefs thatl could never have fo much command of myfclf.
You muft impute it to my Bufinefs, and no^ 'o me. It was
not for want of Will, but Ooporcunity. I could not get Time
till now. I have had no Time till nOw. I never have had
any Leifure till this time/^I have been fo ill I could not come.
I could not come the Weather has besn fo bad. Ge. Indeed
I accept ot your Excufe, but upon this Condition, that you
don't make ufe of it often. If Sicknefs has been the Occa-'
fion of your Abfence, your Excufe is jutter than I w;lh it had
beenj I'll excufe you upon rhis Condidon, that you make
amends for your OmiiTion by Kindnefs, if you make up youi:
pad Negled by your future frequent Vifits. Sy. You don't
efteem thefe common Formalities, our f rieadiliip is more firm
C a than
t 20 ]
than to need to be fupported by fuch vulgar Ceremonies. He
vifics often enough that loves conftantly. Ge. A Mifchief take
thofe Incumbrances that have depriv'd us of your Company.
I can't tell what to wifh for bad enough to thofe Affairs that
have envy'd us the Company of lb good a Friend. A Mif-
chief take that Fever that hath tormented us fo long with the
want of you. I wifti that Fever may perilli, fo thou thy felt
Wert but Ci^Q.
Of Commanding and Promijlng.
yjMES, SJP IDUSy
Ja. I pray you take a fpecial Care of .this Matter. I car-
neftly intreat you to take care of this Affair. If you have any
Refpeit for me, pray manage this Affair diligently. Pray be
very careful in tnis Affair. Pray take a great deal of Care about
this Bufinefs for my Sake. If you are indeed the Man I al-
ways took you to be, let mc fee in this Concern what Efteem
you have for me. Sa. Say no more, I'll difpatch this Affair
for you> and that very fhortly too. I can't indeed warrant you
, what the Event lliall be, but this I promife you, that neither
Fidelity nor Induftry fhall be wanting in me. I will take more
Care of it than if it were my own Affair. Tho' indeed that
which is my Friend's I account as my own. I will fo manage
the Affair, that whatever is wanting. Care and Diligence iliall
not be wanting. Take you no Care about the Matter, I'll do
it for you. Do you be eafy, I'll take the Management of it
upon myfelf. I am glad to have an Opportunity put into my
Hand of fhewing you my Refped. I do not promife you in
Words, but I will in Reality perform whatfoever is to be ex-
pected from a real Friend, and one that heartily wifhes you
well. I won't bring you into a Fool's Paradife. I'll do that
which lliall give you occafion to fay you trufted the Affair to
a Friend.
Succefs,
Sa. The Matter fucceeded better than I could have exped-
cd. Fortune has favour'd both our Wifhes. If Fortune had
been your Wife fhe could net have been more obfervant to
you. Your Affair went on bravely with Wind and Tide. For-
2 tune
[ a. 1
tune, has out-done our very Wifhes. You mufl: needs be a
Favourite of [i} Fortune, to whom all Things fall our juft as
you would have them. I have obrain'd more than I could
prefume to wi'li for. This Journey has been perform'd from
Beginning to End with all the fortunate Circumftances ima-
ginable. The whole Affair has fallen out according to our
Wilh. This Chance fell out happily for us. I think we have
been lucky to Admiration, that what has been fo imprudently
enterpriz'd, has fo happily fucceeded.
A giving one 'Thanki.
Ja. Indeed I thank you, and fhall thank you heartily a<;
long as I live for that good Service you have done me. I
can (carce give you the Thanks you deferve, and fhall never
be able to make you amends, I fee how much I am oblig'd
to you for your Kindnefs to me. Indeed I don't wonder ac
it, for it is no new thing, and in that I am the more oblic^'d
to you. My Sapidus I do, and it is my Duty to love you hear-
tily for your Kindnefs to mc. In as much as in this Affair
you have not aded the Part of a Courtier, I do, and always
fhall thank you. I refpeft you, and thank you, that vou made
my Affair your Care. You have oblig'd me very much by
that Kindnefs of yours. It is a great Obligation upon me that
you have manag'd my Concern with Fidelity. Of all vour
Kindneffes, which are indeed a great many, you have fliew'd
me none has oblig'd me more than this. I cannot poffibiy
make you a Return according to your Merit Too much
Ceremony between you and I is unneceffary, but that which
is in my Power I'll do. I'll be thankful as long as I live. I
confefs myfelf highly oblig'd to you for your good Service.
For this Kindnefs I owe you more than I am able to pay. By
this good Office you have artach'd me to you fo firmly, that
I can never be, able to difengage myfelf You have laid ma
under fo many and great Obligations, that I fhall never be
able to get out of your Debt. No Slave was ever fo en^ao'd
in Duty to his Mailer as you have engag'd me by this Offjce.
You have by this good Turn brought me more into your
Debt than ever I fhall be able to pay. I am oblig'd to you
upon many Accounts, but upon none more than upon this.
Thanks are due for common Kindnefs, but this is beyond the
Power of Thanks to retaliate.
[i] Litaffe Rhamnufia, to have offered Sacrifice to Fortune, who was
worlhipped at Mammis, a Town in -^tdca.
C 3 The
[ 1*1
The Anfwer.
Sa. Forbear thefe CorDpliments , the Friendfhip between
you and I is greater than that vve fhould thank one another
for any Service done. I have not beftow'd this Kindnefs upon
youj but only made a return of it to you. I think the Amends
is fufiicienrly made, if my moft fedulous Endeavours are ac-
ceptable to you. There is no reafon you l"hould thank me for ,
repaying this imall Kindnefs, for thofe uncommon Kindnefies
I have (b often receiv'd from you. Indeed I merit no Praife,
but fhould have been the moft ungrateful Man in the World
if I had b -en wanting to miy Friend. Whatfbever I have, and
whatfoever I can do, you may call as much your own as any
thing ih:^c you have the beft Title to. 1 look upon it as a Fa-
vour that you rake my Service kindly. You pay fo great an
Acknowledgment to me for fo fmail a Kindnefs, as tho' I did
not owe yoj much greater. He ferves himfelf that ferves his
Friend. He that ferves a Friend does not give away his Ser-
vice, bur puts it out to Intereft. If you approve of my Ser-
vice, pray make frequent Ufe of it^ then I Ihall think my
Service is acceptable, if as often as you have occafion for it
you would not requeft but command it.
Of RJ S H FO IVS.
The Argument.
'This Colloquy treats chiefly of three Things, i . Of the
fuperflitious Pilgrimages of fome Perfons to Jerufalem,
'and other holy Places, under Pretence of Devotion,
z. That Vows are not to he made rafloly over a Pot
of Ale : but that Time^ Expence and Pains ought to
he employed otherwife.^ in fuch Matters as have a real
Tendency to promote true Piety. ^ . Of the Infignifi'
cancy and' Abfurdity of PopiJJj Indulgcncies.
ARNOLDUS, CORNELIUS.
y^K N O L D U S. O ! Cornelius, well met heartily, you
-^^ have been loft this hundred Years. Co. What my old
Companion Arnoldusj the Man 1 long'd to fee moft of any
Maa
[ ^3 ]
Man in tbe World ! God fave you. We all gave thee over
for loft Bat prithee where haft been rambling all this Vv'hile ?
Co. In t'other World. .Ar. Why truly a Body would think
fo by thy (lovenly Drefs, lean Carcafe. and ghaftly Phyz. Co.
Well, but I am juft come ixom JeruJ a lem, not from the [i]
Stygian Shades. Ar. What Wind blew thee thither ? Co. Whac
Wind blows a great many other Folks thither ? Ar. Why Fol-
ly, or elfe I am miftaken. Co. However, I am not the only
Fool in the World. Ar. What did you hunt after there ? Co.
Why Mifery. Ar, You might have found that nearer Home.
But did you meet with any thing worth feeing there ? Co.
Why truly, to fpeak ingenuoully, little or nothing. They
fliew us fome certain Monuments of Antiquity, which I look
upon to be moft of 'em Counterfeits, and raeer Contrivances
to bubble the Simple and Credulous. I don'c think they know
precifely the Place that Jernfalem anciently ftood in. Ar.
What did you fee then ? Co. A great deal of Barbarity every
where. Ar. But I hope you are come back more holy than
you went. Co. No indeed, rather ten times worfe. Ar. Well,
but then you are richer ? Co. Nay, rather poorer than [2] Joh.
Ar. But don'c you repent you have taken fo long a Journey
to fo little purpofe ? Co. No, nor I am not afj-iam'd neither,
I have fo many Companions of my Folly to keep me in coun-
tenance -J and as for Repentance, it's too late now. Ar. What:
do you get no Good then by fo dangerous a Voyage.^ Co,
Yes, a great deal. Ar, What is it.? Co, Why, I fliall live
more pleafanrly for it for Time to come. dr. What, becaufe
you'll have the Pleafure of telling old Stories v^^hen the Danger
is over ? Co. That is fomething indeed, but that is not all.
Ar. Is there any other Advantage in it befides that ? Co. Yes,
there is. Ar What is it? Pray tell me. Co. Why, I can
divert myfelf and Company, as oft as I have a mind to it, in
romancing upon my Adventures over a Pot of Ale, or a good
Dinner. Ar. Why, truly that is fomething, as you fay. Co.
And befides, I fhall take as much Pleafure myfelf when I hear
others romancing about Things they never heard nor faw ;
nay, and that they do with that Aflurance, that when they
are telling the moft ridiculous and impoflible Things in nature,
theyperfuade themfelves they are fpeaking Truth all the while.
Ar. This is a wonderful Pleafure. Well then, you have not
[i] Inferos in Latin does not mean Hell, or the Devils, but the Spirits
of the Dead, which the Heathens believed were, after Death, received into
Places under the Earth.
[2] Leberh is the Name of a very poor Man.
C 4. loft
[ 14 ]
loft all 5'our Coft and Labour, as the Saying is. Co. Nay, I
think this is fonnething better ftill than what they do, who, for
the lake of little Advance-money, liil; themfelves for Soldiers
in the Aroiy, which is the Nurfery of ail Impiety. Ar. But
it is an Ungentleman-like thing to take delight in telling Lies.
Co. Bat it IS a little more like a Gentleman than either to de-
light others, or be delighted in flandering other Perfons, or la-
vilhing away a Man's Time or Subftance in Gaming. Ar.
Indeed I muft be of your Mind in that. Co. But then there
is another Advantage. Ar. What is that ? Co. If there fhall
be any Friend that I love very well, who fiiail happen to be
tainted with this Phrenfy, I will advife him to ftay at home ;
as your Mariners that have been caft away, advife them that
are going to Sea, to freer clear of the Place where they mif-
carried. Ar. I wifli you had been my Monitor in time. Co.
What Man! Have you been infe(Sled with this Difeafe too.?
Ar. Yes, I have been at Rome and Co77ifoJiella. Co. Good
God ! how I am pleas'd that you have been as great a Fool
as I ! What F alias put that into your Head } Ar. No
Fal/as, but Idoria rather, efpecially when I left at Home a
handiome young Wife, feveral Children, and a Family, who
had noihing in the World to depend upon for a Maintenance
but my daily Labour. Co. Sure it mufh be feme important
Reafon that drew you away from all thefe engaging Relations.
Prithee tell me what it was. Ar. I am afham'd to tell it. Co.
You need not be afham'd to tell me, who, you know, have
been fick of the fame Dillemper. Ar. There was a Knot of
Neighbours of us drinking together, and when the Wine be-
gan to work in our Noddles, one faid he had a mind to make
a Vlfit to Si. Raines, and another to St. Peier; prefently there
was one or two that promis'd to go with them, till at laft it
was concluded upon to go all together j and I, that I might
not feem a difagreeable Companion, rather than break good
Company, promifed to go too. The next Queftion was, whe-
ther we lliould go to Rome or Compofiella ? Upon the Debate
it was determin'd that we fliould all, God willing, fet out the
next Day for both Places. Co. A grave Decree, litter to be
writ in Wine than engrav'd in Brals. Ar. Prefently a Bum-
per was put about to our good Journey, which when every
Man had taken off in his Turn, the Vote paffed into an A6t,
and became inviolable. Co. A new Religion ! But did you
all come fafe back ? Ar. All but three, one dy'd by the Way,
and gave us in charge to give his humble Service to Peier
and James:, another dy'd at Rome, who bid us remember him
to his WiFe and Children ^ and the third we left at Florence
dangeroufly ill, and I believe he is in Heaven before now.
Co. Was
Co. Was he fo good a Man then ? Ar. The verieft Droll in
Nature. Co. Why do you think he is in Heaven then ? Ar.
Becaufe he had a whole "Satchel full of large Indulgencies. Co.
I underftand you, but it is a long Way to Heaven, and a very
dangerous one too, as I am told, by reafon of the Hctle Thieves
that infefb the middle Region of the Air. Ar. That's true,
but he was well fortify'd with Bulls. Co. What Language were
they written in? Ar. In Latin. Co. And will they fecure
him ? Ar. Yes, unlefs he fhould happen upon fome Spirit
that does not underftand 'Latin, in that Cafe he muft go back
to Rome, and get a new Paflport. Co. Do they fell Bulls there
to dead Men coo ? Ar. Yes, but by the way, let me advife
you to have a care what you (ay, for now there are a great
many Spies [i] abroad. Ar. I don't fpeak flightingly of In-
dulgencies themfelves, but I laugh at the Folly of my fuddling
Companion, who tho' he was the greateft Trifler that ever was
born, yet chofe rather to venture the [2] whole Strefs of his
Salvation upon a Skin of Parchment than upon the Amend-
ment of his Life. But when fhall we have that merry Bout
you fpoke of juft now ? Co. When Opportunity offers we'll
let a Time for a fmall Collation, and invite fome of our Com-
rades, there we will tell Lies, who can lye fafteft, and divert
one another with Lies till we have our Bellies full. Ar. Come
on, a Match.
The Argument.
In this Colloquy thofe Perfons are reprehended that run
to and again to Rome hunting after Benefices^ and
that oftentimes with the Hazard of the Corruption of
their Morals^ and the Lofs of their Money. The
Clergy are admonifloed to divert themfelves with read'
ing of good Books ^ r^-J her than with a Concubine.
Jocular Dlfcourfe concerning a long Nofe.
[1] The Coricai were the Inhabitants of Mount Corkus, who ufed to make
it their Bufmefs to enquire which way Merchants were to fail, and then to give
notice of it to Pyrates, to rob them.
[2] Proram ac Puppln, the wliolc^ becaufe the whole of the Ship depends
on the Head and ?he Stern.
P 4 M^
PAMPHAGUS, [i] COCLES.
PA M. Either -my Sight fails me, or this is my old Pot-
Companion Codes. Co. No, no, your Eyes don't deceive
you at all, you Tee a Companion that is yours heartily. Pa.
Nobody ever thought to have feen you again, you have been
gone fo many Years, and Nobody knew what was become
of you. But whence come you from ? Prithee tell me. Co.
From the Antipodes. Pa. Nay, but I believe you are come
from the [2] fortunate Iflands. Co. I am glad you know your
old Companion, I was afraid I fhould come home as Uijjps
did. Pa. Why pray? After what manner did he come home?
Co. His own Wife did not know him ; only his Dog, being
grown very old, acknowledg'd his M after, by wagging his Tail.
Pa. How many Years was he from Home? Co. Twenty. Pa.
You have been abfent more than Twenty Years, and yet I
knew your Face again. But who tells that Story of Uiyfes ?
Co. Homer. Pa. He ? They fay he's the Father of all fabulous
Stories. It may be his Wife had gotten herfelf a Gallant in
the mean time, and therefore did not know her own Ulyjfes.
Co. No, nothing of that, fhe was one of the chafteft Women
in the World. But Pallas had made Vlyffes look old, that he
might not be known. Pa. How came he to be known at laft ?
Co. By a little Wart that he had upon one of his Toes. His
Nurfe, who was now a very old Woman, took notice of that
as ^i\Q was wafliing his Feet. Pa. A curious old Hagg. Well
then, do you admire that I know you that have fo remarka-
ble a Nofe ? Co. I am not at all forry for this Nofe. Pa. No,
nor have you any occafion to be forry for having a thing that
is fit for fo many Ufes. Co. For what Ufes ? Pa. Firft of all,
it will ferve inftead of an ExtinguiOier, to put out Candles.
Co. Go on. Pa. Again, if you want to draw any thing out
of a deep Pit, it will ferve inftead of an Elephant's Trunk.
Co. O wonderful. Pa. If your Hands be employ'd it will ferve
inftead of a Pin. Co. Is it good for any thing elfe ? Pa. If
you have no Bellows it will iferve to blow the Fire. Co. This
is very pretty j have you any more of it ? Pa. If the Light
oflPends you when you are writing, it will ferve for an Um-
brella. Co. Ha, ha, ha ! Have you any thing more to fay ?
Pa. In a Sea-fight it will ferve for a Grappling-hook. Co.
What will it ferve for in a Land-fight ? Pa. Inftead of a
I'l] Pamphagus of vavrs, all 5 and pij-s/V, to eat; eating up all.
[2] The Canary Iflands.
Shield.
[^7 ]
Shield. Co. And what elfe ? Ta. It will ferve for a Wedge to
cleave Wood withal Co. Well faid. Ta. If you ad: the Part
of a Herald, it will be for a Trumpet; if you found an Alarm^
a Horn; if you dig, a Spade; if you reap, a Sickle, if you
go to Sea,.an Anchor ; in the Kitchen it will ferve for a Flefti-
hook; and in filliing a Fifh-hook. Co. I am a happy F-dlow
indeed, I did not know I carry'd about m.e a Piece of Hou-
fhold-ftufr that would ferve for fo many Ufes. But in the
mean time, in what Corner of the Earth have you hid your
felf all this while ? Fa.lr\V.ome. Co. But is it poffible that in
fo publick a Place no Body fhould know you were alive?
Ta. Good Men txc no where in the World lo much inccg7:iio
as there, fo that in the brightcft Day you lliall fcarce fee one
in a throng'd Market. Co. Well, but then you're com.e home
load en with Benefices. Fa. Indeed I hunted after them dili-
gently, but I had no Succefs ; for the way of filling there is
according to the Proverb, with a golden Hook. Co. That's
a foolifh vny of fifhing. Fa. No matter for that, feme Folks
find it a very good way. Co. Are they not the greateft Fools
in Nature that change Gold for Lead? Fa. But don't you
know that there are Veins of Geld in holy Lead ? Co. What
then are you com.e back nothing but a Pamphagus ? Pa. No.
Co. What then pray ? Fa. A ravenous Wolf Co. But they
make a better Voyage of it, that return laden with Budgets
full of Benefices. Why, had you rather have a Benefice than
a Wife ? Fa. Becaufe I love to live at eafe. I love to live
a pleafant Lite. Co. But in my Opinion they live the m.cll
pleafant Life that have at hom.e a pretty Girl, that they may
embrace as often as they have a mind to it. Pa. And you
may add this to it, fometimes when they have no mind to it,
I. love a continual Pleafure; he that manies a Wife is happy
for a Month, but he that gets a fat Benefice lives merrily all
his Life. Co. But Solitude is fo melancholy a Life, that^^^w
in Paradife could not have liv'd happily unlels God had given
him an Eve. Fa. He'll ne'er need to v^'ant an Evs that has
gotten a good Benefice. Co. But that Pleafure can't really be
call'd Pleafure that carries an ill Name and bad Cotifciencc
with it. Fa. You fay true, and therefore I defign to divert the
Tedioufnefs of Solitude by a Converfation with Books. Co.
They are the pleafanteft Companions in the World. But do
you intend to return to your Fifhing again? P^. Yes, I would,
if I could get a frefh Bait. Co. Would you have a goldea
one or a Silver one ? Pa. Either of them. Co. Be of good
Cheer, your Father will fupply you. Pa. He'll part with no-
thing; and efpecially he'll not truft m.e again, when he com.es
to underfxand I have fpent what I had to no purpofe. Co.
That's
[a8 ]
That's the Chance of the Dice. Pa. But he don't like thofe
Dice. Co. If he iliall abfolutely deny you, I'll fliew you where
you may have as much as you pleafe. Fa. You tell me good
News indeed, conT;e ihew it me, my Heart leaps for Joy. Co.
It is here hard by. Pa. Why, have you gotten a Treafure ?
Co. If I had, I would have it for my felf, not for you. Pa.
If I could but get together loo Ducats I Ihould be in hopes
again. Co. I'll lliew you wheie^ou may have looooo. Pa.
Prithee put me out of my Pain then, and do not teaze me
to death. Tell me where I may have it. Co. From the
.^Jp Buda^i, there you may find a great many Ten Thoufands,
whether you'd have it Gold or Silver. Pa. Go and be hang'd
with your Banter, I'll pay you what I owe you out of that
Bank. Co. Ay, fo you fhall, but it fhall be what I lend you
out of it. Pa. I know your waggidi Tricks well enough. Ca.
I'm not to be compar'd to you for that. Pa. Nay, you are
the verieft Wag in Nature, you are nothing but Waggery;
you make a Jeft of a ferious Mattery in this Affair it is a far
eafier matter to teaze me than it is to pleafe me ; the Matter
is of too great a Confequence to be made a Jeft on j if you
were in my Cafe you would not be (o gamefome j you make
a mere Game of me j you game and banter me i you joke
upon me in a thing that is not a joking Matter. Co. I don'c
jeer you, I fpeak what I think; indeed I do not laugh, Ifpeak
my Mind ; I fpeak ferioufly, I fpeak from my Heart j I {peak
fincerely, I fpeak the Truth. Pa. So may your Cap (land
always upon your Head, as you fpeak fmcerely. But do I
ftand loitering here, and make no hafte home to fte how all
Things go there? Co. You'll find a great many Things new.
Pa. I believe I fhall ; but I wifh I may find all Things as I
would have them. Co. We may all wifh fo if we will, but
never any Body found it fo yet. Pa. Our Rambles will do
us both this Good, that we fhall Uke Home the better for
Time tc come. Co. I can't tell that, for I have feen fome
that have play'd the fame Game over and over again ^ if once
this Infedion feizes a Perfon he feldom gets rid of it.
The
[ ^p ]
The Argument.
T'he wicked Life of Soldiers is here reprehended^ and
fjewn to be 'very miferable : 'That PVar is Csnfufon^
and a Sink of all manner of Vices^ in as much as in it
there is no Dijlintiion made betivixt Things facred and
■profane. The hope of Plunder allures many to become
Soldiers. The Impieties of a Military Life are here
laid open^ by this Confejjion of a Soldier^ that Touth
may be put out of conceit of going into the Army.
HANNO, [i] THRASYMACHUS.
TLTANNO. How comes it about that you that went away
•*■■'■ 2. Mi'Ymry, come back a Vulcan ? Thr. What do you
talk to me of your Mercuries and your Vulcam for ? Ha. Be-
caufe you feem'd to be ready to fly when you went away, but
you're come limping home. Thr. I'm come back like a Sol-
dier then. B.a. You a Soldier, that would out-run a Stag if
an Enemy were at your Heels- Thr. The hope of Booty
made me valiant. Ha. Well, have you brought home a good
deal of Plunder then ? Thr. Empty Pockets. Ha. T hen you
were the lighter for travelling. Thr. But I was heavy loaden
with Sin. Ua. That's heavy Luggage indeed, if the Apoftle
fays right, who calls Sin Lead. Thr. I have feen and had a
hand in more ViUanies this Campaign than in the whole Courfe
of my Life before. Ha. How do you like a Soldier's Life ?
Thr. There is no Courfe of Life in the World more wicked
or more wretched. Ha. What then muft be in the Minds
of thofe People, that for the fake of a litde Money, and feme
out of Curiolity, make as much hafte to a Battel as to a Ban-
quet? Thr. In truth, I can think no other but they are pof.
fefs'd \ for if the Devil were not in them they would never
anticipate their Fate. Ha. So one would think, for if you'd
put them upon any honeft Bafinefs, they'll fcarce ftit a Foot
in it for any Money. Ha. But tell me, how went the Battel ?
Who got thfe better on't ? Thr. There was fuch a hallooing,
hurly-burly, Noife of Guns, Trumpets and Drums, Neighing
{i] thrajymachus, of fl^WiJ?, boldj and nt*.-)(j>[/.aj, to fight j f. d, bold in
Fight,
of
[30]
of HorfeS:, and Shouting of Men, that I was fb far from know-
ing what others were a doint^, that I fcarcely knew where I
was myfelf. Ha. How comes it about then that others, after
a Fight is over, do paint you out every Circumftance fo to
the Life, and tell you what fuch an Officer faid, and what
t'other did, as tho' they had been nothing but Lookers on all
the time, and had been every v/here at the fame time ? Thr.
It is my Opinion that they lye confoundedly. I can tell you
what was done in my own Tent, but as to what was done
in the Battel, I know nothing at all of that. Ha. Don't you
know how you came to be lame neither ? Tbr. Scarce that
upon my Honour, but I fuppofe my Knee was hurt by a Stone,
or a Horfe-heel, or fo. Ha. Well, but I can tell you. Thr.
You tell me ? Why, has any Body told you ? Ha. No. but I
guefs. Thr. Tell me then. Ha. When you were running
away in a Fright, you fell down and hit it againft a Stone.
Tbr. Let me die if you han't hit the Nail on the head, [i]
Ha. Go, get you home, and tell your Wife of your Exploits,
Thr. She'll read me a Juniper-Ledure for coming home in
fuch a Pickle. Ha. But what Reftitution will you make for
what you have ftolen ? Thr. That's made already. Ha. To
whom ? Thr. Why, to Whores, Sutlers, and Gamefters. Ha.
That's like a Soldier for all the World, it's but juft that what's
got over the Devil's Back lliould be fpent under his Belly. Ha.
But I hope you have kept your Fingers all this while from
Sacrilege ? Thr. There's nothing facred in Hoftility, there we
neither fpare private Houfes nor Churches. H^z.Kow will you
make Satisfaction ? Thr. They fay there is no Satisfadion to
be made for what is done in War, for all Things are lawful
there. Ha. You mean by the Lav/ of Arms, I fuppofe ? Thr.
You are right. Ha. But that Law is the higheft Injuftice. It
was not the Love of your Country, but the Love of Booty
that made you a Soldier. Thr. I confefs fo, and I believe very
few go into the Army with any better Defign. Ha. It is in-
deed fome Excufe to be mad with the greater Part of Man-
kind. Thr. I have heard a Parfon fay in his Pulpit that War
was lawful. Ha. Pulpits indeed are the Oracles of Truth.
But War may be lawful for a Prince, and yet not fo for you.
Thr. I have heard that every Man muft live by his Trade.
Ha. A very honourable Trade indeed to burn Houfes, rob
Churches, ravilh Nuns, plunder the Poor, and murder the
[i] A Proverb taken from a Play ufed by Boys, in which he that was
the Gueffer was to touch the Thing the other thought upon with a Needle
or Rod,
Innocent!
[ 31 ]
Innocent! T^r. Batchers are hired to kill Beafts; and why is
our Trade found fault with who are hired to kill Men ? Ha.
But was you never thoughtful what ftiould become of your
Soul if you happen'd to be kill'd in the Battel ? Thr. Not very
muqh, I was very well fatisfied in my Mind, having once for
all commended myfelf to St. Bd^rWtf. Ha. And did fhe take
you under her Protedion ? Thr. I fancied foj for methoughc
(he gave me a little Nod. Ha. What time was it.? In the
Morning? Thr. No, no, 'twas after Supper. Ha. And by
that time I fuppofe the Trees feem'd to walk too ? Thr. How
this Man gueffes every thing ! But St. Chrifiopher was the Saint
I moft depended on, whofe Pi6ture I had always in my Eye.
Ha. What in your Tent ? Thr. We had drawn him with Char-
coal upon our Sail-cloth. Thr. Then to be fure that Chrifio-
pher the Collier was a fare Card to truft to. But without jell-
ing, I don't fee- how you can expedt to be forgiven all thefe ■
Villanies, unlefs you go to Rome. Thr. Yes I can, I know a
Ihorter way than that. Ha. What way is that ? Thr. I'll go
to the Dominicans, and there I can do my Bufinefs with the
CommifTaries for a Trifle. Ha. What, for Sacrilege ? Thr.
Ay, if I had robb'd Chrift himfelf, and cut off his Head af-
terwards, they have Pardons would reach it, and Commiffions
large enough to compound for it. Ha. That is well indeed,
if God fhould ratify your Compofition. Thr. Nay, I am ra-
ther afraid the Devil fliould not ratify it j God is of a forgi-
ving Nature. Ha. What Prieft will you get you ? Thr. One
that I know has but little Modefty or Honefty. Ha. Like
to like. And when that's over, you'll go ftrait away to the
Communion, like a good Chriftian, will you not? Thr. Why
fhould I not ? For after I have once difcharg'd the Jakes of
my Sins into his Cowl, and unburden'd myfelf of my Lug-
gage, let him look to it that abfolv'd me. Ha. But bow can
you be fure that he does abfolve you ? Thr. I know that well
enough. Ha. How do you know it ? Thr. Becaufe he lays
his Hand upon my Head and m.utters over fomething, I don'c
know what. Ha. What if he fhould give you all your Sins
again when he lays his Hand upon your Head, and thefe (hould
be the Words he mutters to himfelf? I abfolve thee from all
thy good Deeds, of ivhich I find few or none in thee j I refiore
thee to thy nuonted Manners, and leave thee jtifi as I found thee.
Thr. Let him look to what he fays, it is enough for me that
I believe I am abfolved. Ha. But you run a great Hazard by
that Belief, for perhaps that will not be Satisfadion to God,
to whom thou art indebted. Thr. Who a mifchief put you
in my way to difturb my Confcience, which was very quiet
before ? Ha. Nay, I think it is a very happy Encounter to
meet
[3^
meet a Friend that gives good Advice. Thr. I can't tell how
good it IS, but I am fure it is not very pleafant.
1'he Commands of a Mafler.
The Argument.
^hls Colloquy treats of the Commands of a Mafler^ and
the Bujinefs of a Servant, i . 'The Mafler calls up
his fleepy Servant^ commands him to fet the Houfe to
rights i the Servant anfwers again^ that he [peaks not
a Word about D inner .^ 6cc, z. Of fending him o?t
various Errands. 3 . Concerning Riding.
I . Of calling up the Sleeper.
RABANUS, SYRUS.
J^A. Soho, foho, Rafcah I am hoarfe a bawling to you,
* *■ and you lye fnoring ftili, you'll fleep for ever I think in
my Confcience j either get up prefently or I'll rouze you with
a good Cudgel. When will you have flept out your Yefter-
day's Debauch ? Are you not afham'd, you fleepy Sor, to lye
a-bed till this time of Day ? Good Servants rife as foon as it
is Day, and take care to get every thing in order before their
Marter rifes. How loth this Drone is to leave his warm Nefl !
he is a whole Hour a fcratching, and ftretching, and yawn-
ing, Sy. It is fcarce Day yet. R^r, I believe not to you^ it
is Midnight yet to your Eyes. Sy. What do you want me
to do ? Ra. Make the Fire b.urn, brufli my Cap and Cloke,
clean my Shoes and Galloflioes, take my Stockings and turn
them infide out, and brufh them well, firft within, and then
without, burn a little Perfume to fwf eten the Air, light a Can-
dle, give me a clean Shirt, air it well before a clear Fire. Sy.
It fhall be done Sir, 'Ra. But make hafle then, all this ought
to have been done before now. Sy. I do make hafle Sir.
3R<j!. I fee what Hafte you make, you are never the forwarder,
you go a Snail's Gallop. Sy. Sir, I cannot do two things at
once. Ra. You Scoundrel, do you fpeak Sentences too ?
Take away the Chamber-Pot, lay the Bed^Clothes to rights,
' ' ' draw
[ n ]
draw back the Curtains, fweep the Houfe, fweep the Cham-
ber-floor, fetch me fome Water to wall my Hands. What
are you a (living about you Drone ? You are a Year a light-
ing- a Candle. Sy. I can't find a Spark of Fire. Ka. Is it fo
yo'u rak'd it up lail Nigh^ ? Sy, I have no Bellows. Ha. How
the Knave thwarts me, as if he that has you can want Bellows.
Sy. What an imperious Mafter have I gotten ! Ten of the
nirnblefl: Fellows in the World are fcarce fufficient to perform
his Orders. Ra. What's that you fay you flow- Back ? Sy-
Nothmcr at all. Sir. K.t. No, Sirrah, did I not hear you mut-
ter ? Sy^ I was faying my Prayers. Ra. Ay, I believe fo, but
it was the Lord's-Prayer backwards then. Pray, what was that
you were chattering about Imperioufnefs ? Sy. I was wifhing
you might be an Emperor. Ra. And I willi you may be
made a Man of a Stump of a Tree. Wait upon me to Church,
and then run home and make the Bed, and put every thing
in its places let the Houfe be fee to rights from top to bot-
tom, rub the Cham.ber-Pot, put thefe foul Things out of fighCi.
perhaps I may have fome Gentry come to pay me a Vifit j if
I find any thing out of order I'll threfli you foundly. Sy. I
knov/ your good Humour well enough in that Matter. Ra.
Then it behoves you to look about you, if you are wife. Sy.
But all this while here is not one Word about Dinner. Ra.
Out you Villain, one may fee what your Mind runs on: I
don't dine at home, therefore come to me a little before Tert
a-CIock, that you may wait upon me where I am to go to
Dinner. Sy. You have taken care of your felf, but there is
not a bit of Bread for me to put into my Head. Ra. If you
have nothing to eat, you have fomething to hunger after. Sy.
But fafting won't fill the Belly. Ra. There is Bread for you.
Sy. There is fo, but it is as black as my Hat, and as coarie as
the Bran itfelf. R^. You dainty Chap'd Fellow, you, ought
to be fed with Hay, if you had fuch Commons as you deferve.
What, I warrant you, Mr. Afs, you muft be fed with Plumb
Cakes, muft you } If you can't eat dry Bread, take a Leek to
eat with it, or an Onion, if you like that better^
2.
Of fending about various Buftnefjes
Ra. You muft go to Market. Sy. What, fofar? Ra. It is
iiot a Stone's Throw off, but it feems two Miles to fuch an
idle Fellow as you i but however, I'll fave you as much La-
bour as I can, you fhall difpateh feveral Bufineffes in one Er-
tand i count 'em upon your Fingers, that you mayn't forgee
D art/
»
t 34-1
any of 'era : Firft of all ftep to the Sales-man, and bring my
warer'd Camblet Doublet if it be done ; then go and enquire
for Cornelius the Waggoner, he's commonly at the Sign of the
JRoe-hck, he ufes that Houfe, ask him if he has any Letters
for me, and what Day he fets out on his Journeys then go to;
the Woollen Draper, and tell him from me, not to be uneary> ,
that I have not fent him the Money at the Time appointed,:,
for he fhall have it in a very jiale Time. Sj. When? Toi
morrow come never? Ea. Do you grin you Pimp? Yes,
before the firft of Alarch : And as you come back, turn on
the Left-hand, and go to the Bookfeller, and enquire of him,,
if there be any new Books come out of Germany, learn what
they are, and the Price of them ; then defire Goclenius. to do
me the honour to come to Supper with me, tell him I rauft
fup by my felf if he don't. Sy. What do you invite Guefts
too ? You han't Vidtuals enough in the Houfe to give a Moule i
a Meal. Ra. And when you have done all thefe, go to the :
Market, and buy a Shoulder of Mutton, and get it nicely
roafted: Do you hear this? Sy. I hear more than I like to
hear. Ra. But take you care you remember 'em all. Sy. I
fhall fcarce be able to remember half of 'em. Ra. What do
you ftand loytering here, you idle Knave? You might have!
been back before now. Sy. What one Perfon in the World I
can do all thefe ? Truly I muft wait upon him out, and attend |
upon him home; Fm his Swabber, his Chamberlain, his
Footman, his Clerk, his Butler, his Book-keeper, his Brawl,
his Errand-boy, and laft of all he does not think I have Bufi-
nefs enough upon my Hands, unlefs I am his Cook too.
3. Concerning Riding.
^a. Bring me my Boots, I am to ride out. Sy. Here they
are. Sir. Ra. You have look'd after them bravely, they arc
all over mouldy with lying by ; I believe they han't been
clean'd nor greafed this twelve Months Day; they are fo
dry, they chap again j wipe them with a wet Cloth, and li-
quor them well before the Fire, and chafe them till they grow
foft. Sy. It fhall be doqe. Sir. Ra. Where are my Spurs? ,
5/. Here they are. Rd. Ay, here they are indeed, but all i
eaten up with Ruft. 2?«. Where is my Bridle and Saddle?
Sy. They are juft by. 2?^. See that nothing is wanting or
broken, or ready to break, that nothing may be a Hinderance
to us, when we are upon our Journey. Run to the Sadlers,
and get him to mend that Rein ; When you come back, look
upon
C 35 ]
upon the Horfes Feet, and Shoes, and fee if there be any
Nails wanting, or loofe. How lean and rough thefeHorfesare!
How often do you rub 'em down, or kemb them in a Year ?
Sy. I'm fure I do it every Day. Ra. That may be feen, I
belieye they have not had a bit of Viduals for three Days
togethtt^^ Sy. Indeed they have. Sir. Ra. You fay fo, but
the Horfef^^ould tell me another Tale, if they could but
fpeak: Thoui|j iricleed their Leannefs fpeaks loud enough.
Sy. Indeed I ta%.all the Care in the World of 'em. Ra. How
comes it about tTvbn, that they don't look as well as you do ?
Sy. Becaufe I don't eat Hay. Ra. You have this to do ftill ;
make ready my Portmanteau quickly. Sy. It fhall be done.
Tfie Argument.
^he School-majler's Infiru^ions teach a Boy Modefly^
Civility^ and Manners becoming his Age^ in what
Pofiure he ought to Jland while he talks to his Supe~
riors j concerning Habit ^ Difcoiirfe^ and Behaviour
at "Table and in School.
The Schoohmajler and Boy,
VCH. You feem not to have been bred at Court, but in 3
*-^ Cow-ftall j you behave yourfelf fo clowniihiy. A Gen-
tleman ought to behave himfelf like a Gentleman. As cf:en
or whenever any one that is your Superior fpeaks to you.
Hand ftrait, pull off your Hat, and look neither doggedly,
furlily, faucily, malaperdy nor unfettledly, but with a ft.ud,
modeft, pleafant Air in your Countenance, and a baihful
Look fix'd upon the Perfon who fpeaks to you; your Feet
fet clofe one by t'other; your Hands without Ailion: Don'c
fland titter, totter, firft ftanding upon Foot, and tlien upon
another, nor playing with your Fingers, biting your Lip,
fcratching your Head, or picking your Ears : Let your Cloaths
be put on tight and neat, that your whole Drefs, Air, Mo-
tion and Habit, may befpeak a modefl: and bafliful Temper.
Bo. What if I (hall try, Sir? Ma. Do fo. Bo. Is this right?
Ma. Not quite. Bo. Muft J do fo ? Ma. That's pretty well.
Bo. Muft 1 ftand fo? Ma. Ay, that's very well, remember
that Pofture; don't be a prittle prattle, nor prate apace, nor
be a minding any thing but what is faid to you. If you are
to make an Anfwer, do it in few Words, and to the Purpofe,
every now and then prefacing with fome Title of Reiped,
D 2 and
[3«]
and fometimes ufe a Title of Honour, and now and then
make a Bow, efpecially when you have done fpeaking: Nor
do you go away without asking Leave, or being bid to go :
Now come let me fee how you can pradtife this. How
long have you been from Home ? Bo. Almoft fix Months.
Ma. You fliould have faid. Sir. Bo. Almoft fix Months, Sir.
Ma. Don't you long to fee your Mother? Bo. Yes, fome-
times. Ma. Have you a Mind to go to fee her ? Bo. Yes,
with your Leave, Sir. Ma. Now you fhould have made a
Bow J that's very well, remember to do fo ; when you fpeak,
don't fpeak faft, ftammer, or fpeak in your Throat, but ufe
your felf to pronounce your Words diftindlly and clearly. If
you pafs by any ancient Perfon, a Magiftrate, a Minifter, or
Dodtor, or any Perfon of Figure, be fure to pull off your
Hat, and make your Reverence : Do the fame when you pafs
by any facred Place, or the Image of the Crofs. When you
are at a Feaft, behave your felf chearfully, but always fo as
to remember what becomes your Age : Serve your felf laft ;
_ and if any nice Bit be ofFer'd you, refufe it modeftly :, but if
they prefs it upon you, take it, and thank the Perfon, and
cutting off a Bit of it, offer the reft either to him that gave
it you, or to him that fits next to you. If any Body drinks
to you merrily, thank him, and drink moderately. If you
don't care to drink, however, kifs the Cup, Look pleafantly
upon him that fpeaks to you , and be fure not to fpeak till
you are fpoken to. If any Thing that is obfcene be faid, don't
laugh at it, but keep your Countenance, as though you did
not underftand it j don't rcfled on any Body, nor take' place
of any Body, nor boaft of any Thing of your own, nor un-
dervalue any Thing of another Bodies. Be courteous to your
Companions that are your inferiors j traduce no Body ; don't
be a Blab with your Tongue, and by this Means you'll get a
good Character, and gain Friends without Envy. If the En-
tertainment fhall be long, defire to be excus'd, bid much good
may it do the Guefts, and withdraw from Table : See that
you remember thefe Things. Bo. Ill do my Endeavour, Sir.
Is there any Thing elfe you'd have me do .^ Ma. Now go to
, your Books. Bo. Yes, Sir.
The Argument.
ft/je Boys fending Codes their Meffenger to their Majier^
get league to go to Play, 'vohojhsws that moderate Re-
creations
[ if ]
creations are 'very necejfary both for Mind and Body,
^he Majier admonijloes them that they keep together
at Play ^^c. \. Of playing at Stool-hall: Of chufing
Partners. 2. Of playing at Bowls .^ the Orders of the
Bowling-Green. 3. Of playing at flriking a Ball
thro' an Iron Ring. 4. Of Dancing.^ that they JJjould
not dance prefently after Dinner : Of playing at Leap-
frog: Of Running: Of Swimming.
Nicholas, Jerome, Cocles, the Master.
AT I C. I have had a great mind a good while, and this
•^ ' fine Weather is a great Invitation to go to play. W.
Thefe indeed invite you, but the Mafter don't. Nic. We
muft get feme Spokefman chat may extort a Holiday from
him. Hi. You did very well to fay extort, for you m.ay fooner
wreft Herculei's Club out of his Hands than get a Play-day
from him i but Time was when Nobody lov'd Play better
than he did. Nic. That is true, but he has forgot a great
while ago fince he was a Bpy himfelf j he is as ready and free
at whipping as any Body, but as fparing and backward at this
as any Body in the World. Hi. We muil pick out a Meffen-
ger that is not very bafliful, that won't be prefently dafh'd out
of Countenance by his furly Words. Nic. Let who will g6
for me, I had rather go without Play than ask him for it.
Hi. There is Nobody fitter for this Bufinefs than Codes. Ni.
Nobody in the World, he has a good bold Face of his own,
and Tongue enough j and befides, he knows his Humour too.
Hi. Go, Codes, you will highly oblige us all. Coc. Well, I'll
try ; but if I do not fucceed, do not lay the Fault on your
Spokefman. Hi. You promife well for it, I am out in my
Opinion if you don't get Leave. Go on Intreater, and return
an Obtainer. Coc. I'll go, may Mercury [i] fend me good
Luck of my Errand. God fave you. Sir, Ma. What does-
this idle Pack want ? Coc. Your Servant, Reverend Mafter.
Ma. This is a treacherous Civility ! I am well enough alrea-
dy. Tell me what 'tis you came for. Coc. Your whole School
beg a Play-day, Ma. You do nothing elfe but play, even
without Leave. Coc. Your Wifdom knows that moderate
Play quickens the Wit, as you have taught us out of ^in-
tilian. Ma. Very well, how well you can remember what's
[i] Mercury is not only faid to be the Meffenger of the Gods, but alfo
jhe God of Eloquence.
D 3 to
5^
to your Parpofe? They that labour hard, had need of
feme Relaxation : But you that ftudy idly, and play labori-
ouflv; had n:iore need of a Curb, than a Snaffle. Coc. If any
Thing has been wanting in Times part, we'll labour to make
it up by future Diligence. Ma. O rare Makers up ! who will
be Sureties for the performing this promife? Coc. I'll venture
my Head upon it. Ma. Nay, rather venture your Tail. I
know there is but little Dependance upon your Wordj but
however, I'll try this time what Credit may.be given to you;
if you deceive me now, you fliall never obtain any Thing
from me again. Let *em play; but let them keep together
in the Field, don't let them go a tippling or worfe Exercifes,
and fee they come Home betimes, before Sun fet. Coc. We
will. Sir.
I have gotten leave, but with much a do. Jer. O brave
Lad 1 we all love you dearly. Coc. But v/e mull be fure not
to tranfgrefs our Orders, for if we do, it will be all laid upon
imy Back ; I have engaged for ye all, and if ye do, PU never
be your Spokes-man again. Jer. We'll take care; But what
play do you like befl.? Coc. We'll talk of that when we come
into the Fields.
I . Of playing at Ball.
NICHOLAS and JEROME.
'- Nic. No Play is better to exercife all Parts of the Body
than Stool-ball ; but that's fitter for Winter than Summer. Jer,
Th^re is no time of the Year with us, but what's fit to play
in. ^ Nic. We fhall fweat lefs, if we play at Tennis. Jer.
Let's let Nets alone to Fifhermen ; it's prettier to catch it in
our Hands. Nic. Well, come on, I don't much Matter; but
how much fliall we play for? Jer. For a Fill-up, and then
we flian't lofe much Money. Nic. But I had rather fpare
my Corps than my Money. Jer. And I value my Corps
more than my Money : We mufl play for fomething, or we
fhall never play our beft. Nic. You fay true. Jer. Which
Hand foever fliall get the firfl three Games, fliall pay the fixth
Part of a Groat to the other ; but upon Condition that what's
won fliall be fpent among all the Company alike. Well, I like
the Propofal; come done, let's chufe Hands; but we are all (o
equally match'd, that it's no great Matter who and who's to-
gether. Jer. You play a great deal better than I. Nic. But
for all that, you have the better Luck. Jer. Has Fortune
any thing to do at this Play ? Nic. She has to do every where. '
^ ^ Jer.
L 39 1 •
^er. Well, come let's tofs up. O Boys, very well indeed,
I have got the Partners I would have. Nic. And we like
our Partners very well. ^er. Conie on, now for't, he that
will win, muft look to his Game, Let every one Hand ro
his Place bravely. Do you fland behind me ready to catch
the Ball, if it goes beyond me^ do you mind there, and
beat it back when it comes from our Adverfaries. Nic. I'll
warrant ye, I'll hit it if it comes near me. Jer. Go on and
profper, throw up the Ball upon the Houfe. He that throws
and do's not fpeak firft, fhall lofe his Caft. Nic. Well, ,take it
then. ^er. Do you tofs itj if you throw it beyond the
Bounds, or fhort, or over the Houfe, it fiiall go for nothing,
and we won't be cheated: And truly you throw naftily. jer.
As you tofs it, I'll give it you again j I'll give you a Ro^jjlaiid
for an Oliver:^ but it is better to play fairly and honeftly.
Nic. It is beft at Diverfion, to beat by fair play. Jer. It is
fo, and in War too; thefe Arts have each their refpedtive
Laws : There are fome Arts that are very unfair ones. Nic.
I believe fo too, and more than feven too. Mark the Bounds
with a Shell, or Brick-bat, or with your Hat, if you will.
Jer. I'd rather do it with yours. Nic- Take the Ball again.
Jer. Throv/ ir j fcore it up, Nic. We have two good wide
Goals. Jer. Pretty wide, but they are not out of reach.
Nic. They may be reach'd if no Body hinders it. Jer. O
brave, I have gone beyond the firft Goal. We are fifteen'.
Play ftoutly, we had got this too, if you had flood in your
Place. Well, now we are equal. Nic But you fhan't be
fo long. Well, we are thirty -., vjq are forty five. Jer. What
Sefterces. Nic. No. Jer. What then } Nic Numbers, y^r*
What fignifies Numbers, if you have nothing to pay. Nic VVes^
have gotten this Game. Jer. You are a Htde too hafty; j/oa-
reckon jour Chickens before they are hatched. I have feen
thofe lofe the Game that have had fo many for Love. War
and Piay is a meer Lottery. We have got thirty, now we
are equal again. Nic. This is the Game Stroke. O brave !
we have got the better of you. .Jer. Well, but you fhan't
have it long; did I not fay fo? We are equally fortunate^
Fortune inclines firft to one fide, and then to t'other, as if
(he could not tell which to give the Vi£tory to. Nic. Fortune,
be but on our Side, and we'll help thee to a Husband. O
rare ! She has anfwer'd our Defire, we have got this Gam.e,
fet it up, that we may'nt forget. Jer. It is almoft Night,
and we have play'd enough, we had better leave off, too
much of one thing is good for nothing, let us reckon cur
Winnings. Nic. We have won three Groats, and you have
won two J then there is one to be fpent. Jer. But who muft;
D 4 pay
[40 ]
pay for the Balls? Nk. All alike, every one his part. For
there is lb Ikde won:, we can't take any Thing from that.
1. Bowl PIayh?g.
JDOLPHUS, BERNJRDUS, the Arbitrators.
ylclol. You have been often bragging what a mighty Game-
fter you were ac Bowls. Come now, I have a Mind to try
what a one you are. Ber. I'll anfwer you, if you have a
mind to that Sport. Now you'll find according to the Pro-
verb ; Tou have met wiih jour Match. Adol Well, and
you fliall find I am a Match for you too. Ber. Shall we play
fin.^le Hands or double Hands? Adol. I had rather play An-
gle, that another may not come in with me for a Share of the
Vidory. Ber And I had rather have it fo too, that the Vi-
dory may be entiiely my own. Adol. They fliall look on,
and be Judges. Ber. I take you up j But what fhall he that
beais get, or he that is beaten lofe. Ber. What if he that
bears Aall have a Piece of his Ear cut ofF. Nay, rather let
pno. of his Stones be cur out. It is a mean thing to play
for Moneys you are a German, and I a Frenchman, we'll
both play for the Honour of his Country: If Ifliall beat you,
you fliall cry out thrice, let France flourifli • If I fliall be
beat fwh'ch- I hope I flian't) I'll in the fame Words cele-
h\-2XQyoi\r Germany. Adol. Well, a Match. Ber. Now for
good, Luck, fince two great Nations are at Stake in this
Game, let the Bowls be boch alike. Adol. Do you fee that
Stone that lies by the Port there. Ber. Yes I do. Adol.
That .fliall be the Jack. Ber. Very well, let it be fo ; but
I fay let the Bowls be alike. Adol. They are as like as two
Peas. Take v/hich you pleafe, it's all one to me. Ber. Bowl
away. Adol Hey-day, you whirl your Bowl as if your Arm .
was a Sling. Ber. You have bit your Lip, and whirled your
Bowl loiig enough : Come bowl away. A ftrong Bowl in-
deed, but I am beff, Adol. If ir had not been ibr that mif-
chievous bit of a Brick-bat there, rhat lay in my Way, I had
beat you ofE Ber. Stand fair. Adol. I won't cheat : i intend
to beat you by Art, and net to cheat j^e, fince we contend
for the PriT-e of Honour; p^ub, rub: A great Caft in troth.
Adol. Nay, don't laugh' before you've won. Ber. We are
equal yet. Ber. This is who fliall : He that firft hits the Jack
3S up. Adol. I have beat you, fing. Ber. Stay, you Ouiuld
have faid how many you'd make up, for my Hand is not
come
[4>] -
come in yet. Adol. Judgment, Gentlemen^ Arhitr. 3. Bcr.
Very well. Adol Well, what do you fay now.? Are you
beat or no ? Ber. You have had better Luck than L bur yet
I won't vail to you, as to Strength and Art • I'll ftand to
what the Company fays. Arb. The German has beat, and
the Victory is the more glorious, that he has beat fo good a
Gamefter. Adol. Now Cock crow. Ber. I am hoarCe. AdoL
That's no new thing to Cocks; but if you can't crow like
an old Cock, crow like a Cockeril. Ber. Let Germany flou-
riili thrice. Adol. You ought to have fiid fo thrice. Ber. \
am a-dry; let us drink fomewhere, I'll make an end of the
Song there. Adol. I won't ftand upon chat, if the Company
likes it. Arb. That will be the beft, the Cock will crow
clearer when his Throat is gargled.
3 . The Play of ftriking a Ball throng an Iron Ring.
GASPER, ERASMUS.
Gap. Come, let's begin, Marcolphus fliall come in, in the
Lofers Place. £r. But what Hiall Vv/e play for } GaJ. He that
is beat, fhall make and repeat Extempore, a Difticb, in praife
of him that beat him. 'Er. With all my Heart. Gaf. Shall
we tofs up who fhall go firft } Er. Do you go firft if you
will, I had rather go laft. Gaf. You have the better of me,
becaufe you know the Ground. Er. You're upon your own
Ground- Gaf. Indeed I am better acquainted with the Ground,
than I am with my Books; but that's but a fmall Commen-
dation. Er. You that are fo good a Gamefter ought to give me
odds. Gaf. Nay, you fiiould rather give me odds; but
there's no great Honour in getting a Vidory, when odds is
taken : He only can properly be faid to get the Game, that
gets it by his own Art; we are as well match'd as can be;
yours is a better Ball than mine. Er. Play fair, without cheat-
ing and cozening. Gaf You fliall fay you have had to do
with a fair Gamefter. Er. But I would firft know the Or-
ders of the Bowling-alley. Gaf We make 4 up; whoever
bowls beyond this Line it goes for nothing ; if you can go
beyond thofe other Bounds, do in fairly and welcome:
Whoever hits a Bowl out of his Place lofes his Caft. Er.
I underftand thefe things. Gaf I have fhut you our, Er.
But I'll give you a Remove. Gaf. If you do that I'll give
you the Game. Er. Will you upon your Word.? Gaf.
Ye?, upon my Word: You have no other Way for it, but to
bank
Lr-I
bank your Bowl fo as to make it rebound on mine. Er. Ill
try : Well, what fay you now Friend ? Are not you beaten
away ? fHave I not flruck you away ?) Gaf I am, I confefs
it j I wiiTi you were but as wife as you are lucky ; you can
fcarce do fo once in a hundred times. Er. I'll lay you, if you
will, that I do it once in three times. But come pay me what
I have won. Gaf. What's that ? Er. Why, a Diftich. Gaf.
Well, I'll pay it now. Er. And an extempore one too. Why
do you bice your Nails ? Gaf. I have it. Er. Recite it out.
Gaf. As loud as you will.
Toufig Standers-hyt clap ye the Conqueror hfave»
IVloo me has heat, is the more learned Knave.
Han't you a Diftich now ? Er. I have, and I'll give you as
good as you bring.
4. Leaping.
FINCENT, LAURENCE.
Vi. Have you a mind to jump with me .? Eau. That Play
is not good prefencly aFrer Dinner. Vi. Why fo ? Eau. Be-
caufe that a Fulriefs of Belly makes the Body heavy. Vi. Not
very much to thofe that live upon Scholars Commons, for
thefe oftentimes are ready for a Supper before they have done
Dinner. Eau. What fort of Leaping is it that you like bell ?
Vi. Let us firfb begin with that which is the plaineft, as that
of Grafshoppers ; or Leap-frog, if you Uke that better, both
Feet at once, and clofe to one another j and when we have
play'd enough at this, then we'll try other Sorts. Eau. I'll
play at any fort, where there is no danger of breaking ones
Legs j I have no mind to make Work for the Surgeon. VL
What if we (liould play at hopping ? Eau. That the Ghofts
[i] play, I am not for that. Vi. It's the clevereft way to leap
with a Pole. Eau. Running is a more noble Exeicife; for
JEneas in Virgil prcpofcd this Exercife. V'l. Very true, and he
alfo propos'd the fighting with Whirly-bats too, and I don't like
that Sport. Eau. Mark the Courfe,let this be the Starting- place,
and yonder Oak the Goal. Vi. I wifli Mncas was here, that he
might propofe what lliouM be the Conqueror's Priz.e. JLdta.Glory
is a Reward fufficient for Vidlory. Vt. You fhould rather give a
£ij Empuja in Ariftophancs is a Ghoft that appears witji one Leg,
Reward
[ 43 ]
Reward to him that is beat, to comfort him^ Lau. Then let
the Viftor's Reward be to go into the Town crowned with a
Bur. Vi. VVelL 'tis done, provided you'll go before playing
upon a Pipe. Lau. It is very hot. Vi. That is not ftranga
when it is Midfummer. 'Lau. Swimming is better. Vi. I
don't love to Hve like a Frog, I am a Land Animal, not an
amphibious one. Lau, But in old Time this was look'd upon
to be one of the raoft noble Ek'ercifes. Vi. Nay, and a very
ufefui one too. Vi. For what ? Vi. If Men are forc'd to fly
in Battel, they are in the beft Condition that can run and
fwim befl. Lau. The Art you fpeak of is not to be ki light
by j it is as Praife-vi'orthy Ibmetimes to run away nimbly as it
is to fight ftoutly. Vi. I can't fwim at all, and it is dangerous
to converfe with an unaccuftomed Element. Lau. You ought
to learn then, for no Body was born an Artift. Vi. But I
have heard of a great many of thefe Artifts that have fwum
in, but never fwam out again. Lau. Firfi; try wich Corks.
Vi. I can't trufl more to a Cork than to my Feetj if you
have a mind to fwim, I had rather be a Spectator than an
Ador.
The Argument.
^'bis Difcourfc furnijloes a chiUiJlo Mind 'with pious In-
firu^ions of Religion., in what it confijls. What is to
be done in the Morning in Bed., at getth:g up^ at Home^
at School., before Meat^ after Meat., before going to
Sleepy of beginning the Day., of praying., of behaving
themfehes fiudioiifly at School., 'ithriftinefs of I'ime :
j^ge flies. What is to be done after Supper. Mow we
ought to fleep. Of Behaviour at holy TVorflnp. Jll
things to be applied to ourfelves. The Meditation of
a pious Soul at Church. JVhat Preachers are chiefly
to be heard. Fafling is prejudicial to Children. Con-
feflion is to be made to Chrift. The Society of wicked
Perfons is to be avoided. Of the prudent chuflng a>
Way of Living. Holy Orders and Matrimony are not
to be entred into before the Age of Twenty-two. What
. Poets are ft to he read., and ho'^"'
:EnASMvs,
[44]
"ERASMUS, GJSPER.
Tpn AS MUS. Whence came you from? Out of fome
^ Alehoufe? Ga. No, indeed. Er. What from a Bowl-
ing Green ? Ga. No, nor from thence neither. Er. What
from the Tavern then ? Ga. No. Er. Well fince I can't guefs,
tell me. Ga. From St. Marys Church. Er. What Bufineis
had you there .? Ga. I faluted fome Perfons. Er. Who } Ga.
Chrift, and fome of the Saints. Er. You have more Reli-
gion than is common to one of your Age. Ga. Religion is
becoming to every Age. Er. If I had a Mind to be religious,
I'd become a Monk. Ga. And fo would I too, if a Monk's
Hood carried in it as much Piety as it does Warmth.
Er. There is an old Saying, a young Saint and an old Devil.
Ga. But I believe that old Saying came from old Satan : I
can hardly think an old Man to be truly religious, that has
not been fo in his young Days. Nothing is learn'd to greater
Advantage, than what we learn in our youngeft Years. Er.
What is that which is call'd Religion? Ga. It is the pure
Worfhip of God, and Obfervation of his Commandments.
Er. What are they? Ga. It is too long to relate all; but
ni tell you in fhort, it confifts in four Things. Er. What
are they ? Ga. In the firft Place, that we have a true and pi-
ous Apprehenfion of God bimfelf, and the Holy Scriptures ;
and that we not only (land in Awe of him as a Lord, but
that we love him with all our Heart, as a moft beneficent
Father. 2. That we take the greateft Care to keep ourfelves
blamelefsj that is, that we do no Injury to any one. 3. That
we exercife Charity, i. e. to deferve well of all Perfons (as
much as in us lyes). 4. That we pradtife Patience, i. e. to
bear patiently Injuries that are offered us, when we can't pre-
vent them, not revenging them, nor requiting Evil for Evil.
Er. You hold forth finely j but do you pradife what you
teach? Ga. I endeavour it manfully. Er. How can you do
it like a Man, when you are but a Boy ? Ga. I meditate
according to my Ability, and call my felf to an Account eve-
ry Day j and corred; myfelf for what I have done amifs :
That was unhandfomely done, this faucily faid, this was un-
cautioufly a6ted; in that it were better to have held my Peace,
that was negleded. Er. When do you come to this Reck-
oning? Ga. Moft commonly at Nighty or at any Time
that I am moft at leifure. Er. Bur tell me, in what Studies
do you fpend the Day ? Ga. I will hide nothing from fo
intimate a Companion : In the Morning, as foon as I am a-
wake, (and that is commonly about fix a Clock, or fome-
times at five) I fign my fclf with my Finger in the Forehead
and
[4J]
and Breaft with the Sign of the Crofs. Er. What then? Ga.
I begin the Day in the Name of the Father, Son, and holy
Spirit. Er. Indeed that is very pioufly done. Ga. By and by
I put up a fhort Ejaculation to Chrift. Er. What doft thou fay
to him ? Ga. I give him thanks that he has been pleafed to
biefs me that Night j and I pray him that he would in like
Manner profper me the whole of that Day, fo as may be for
his glory, and my Soul's good j and that he who is the true
Light, that never fets, the eternal Sun, that enlivens, nourifli-
es and exhilarates all Things, would vouchfafe to enliven my
Soul, that I mayn't fall into Sin^ but by his Guidance, may
attain everlafting Life. Er. A very good Beginning of the
Day indeed. Ga. And then having bid my Parents good Mor-
row, to whom next to God, I owe the greaiefl Reverence,
when it is Time I go to School j but fo that I may pafs by
fome Church, if I can conveniendy. Er. What do you do
there } Ga. I falute Jefus again in three Words, and all the
Saints, either Men or Women ^ but the Virgin Mary by Name,
and efpecialiy that I account moft peculiarly my own. Er.
Indeed you feem to have read that Sentence of Cato,
Saluta libenteri to good Purpofe j was it not enough to have
faluted Chrift in the Morning, without faluting him again pre-
fenriy ? Are you not afraid left you fhould be troublefome
by your over Officioufnefs.^ Ga. Chrift loves to be often cal-
led upon. Er. But it feems to be ridiculous to fpeak to one
you don't fee. Ga. No more do I fee that part of me that fpeaks
to him. Er. What Part is that } Ga. My Mind. Er. But ic
feems to be Labour loft, to falute one that does not falute
you again. Ga. He frequently falutes again by his fecret In-
fpiration j and he anfwers fufficiently that gives what is ask'd
of him. Er. What is it you ask of him.^ For I perceive your
Salutations are petitionary, like thofe of Beggars. Ga. Indeed
you are very righcj for I pray that he, who, when he was a
Boy of about twelve Years of Age, fitting in the Temple, taught
the Dodtors themfelves, and to whom the heavenly Father, by
a Voice from Heaven, gave Authority to teach Mankind, fay-
ing. This is my belo'vedSon, in luhom 1 am nuell pleafed, hear
ye him j and who is the eternal Wifdom of the moft high
Father, would vouchfafe ^to enlighten my Underftaoding, to
receive wholefome Learning, that I may ufe it to his Glory.
Er. Who are thofe Saints that you call peculiarly yours?
Ga. Of the Apoftles, St. Vaul., of the Martyrs, St. Cyprian ;
of the Dodors, Jerome:, of the Virgins, St. ^gnes Er. How
came thefe to be yours, more than the reft? Was it by
Choice or by Chance ? Ga. They fell to me by Lot. Er. But
you only falute them I fuppofe^ do you beg any Thing of
3 them ?
[ 4^
them ? Ga. I pray, that by their Suffrages they would recom-
mend me to Chrift, and procure that by his Afliftance it may
in time come to pafs that I be made one of their Company.
Er. Indeed what you ask for is no ordinary thing : But what
do you do then ? Ga. I go to School, and do what is to be
done there with m.y utmoft Endeavour ; I Co implore Chrift's
Affiftance, as if my Study without it would fignify nothing j
and I fludy as if he offered no Help but to him that labours
induftrioufly j and I do my utmoft not to deferve to be bea-
ten, nor to offend my Maftcr either in Word or Deed, nor
any of my Companions. Er. You are a good Boy to mind
thefe things. Ga. When School is done I m.ake haile Home*
and if I can I take a Church in my Way, and in three Words,
I falute Jefus again j and I pay my Refpefts to my Parents j
and if I have any Time, I repeat, either by myfelf, or with
one of my School-fellows, what was dictated in School. Er.
Indeed you are a very good Husband of Time. Ga. No won-
der I am of that, which is the mofl precious thing in the
World, and when paft is irrecoverable. Er. And Hefwd tea-
ches, that good Husbandry ought to be in the middle, it is
too foon in the beginning, and too late in the end. Ga. He^
fod fpoke right enough concerning Wine, but of Time no
good' Husbandry is unfeafonable. If you let a Hogfliead of
Wine alone it won't empty itfelf j but Time is always a flying,
fleeping or waking. Er. I confefs fo, but what do you cio
after that? Ga. When my Parents fit down to Dinner I fay
Grace, and then wait at Table till I am bid to take my own
Dinner; and having return'd Thanks, if I have any Time left
I divert myfelf with my Companions with Tome lawful Recre-
ation till the Time comes to go to School again. Er. Do
you falute Jefus again } . Ga. Yes, if I have an Opportunity j
but if it fo happen that I have not an Opportunity, or it be
not feafonable, as I pafs by the Church I falute him mentally j
and then I do what is to be done at School with all my Might j
and when I go Home again I do what I did before Dinner :
After Supper I divert myfelf with fome pleafant Stories ; and
afterwards bidding my Parents and the Family good Night,
I go to-bed betimes, and there kneeling down by the Bed-
fide, as I have faid, 1 fay over thofe Things I have been
learning that Day at School ; if I have committed any great
Fault, I implore Chrift's Clemency, that he would pardon
me, and I promife Amendment ; and if I have committed no
Fault, I thank him for his Goodnefs in preferving me from
all Vice, and then I recommend myfelf to him with all my
Soul, that he would preferve me from the Attempts of my
- evil
_ [ 47 ]
evil Genius and filthy Dreams. When this is done, and I
am got into Bed, I crofs my Forehead and Breall, and com-
pofe nfiyfelf to Reft. Er. In what Pofture do you compofe
yourfelf? Ga. I don't lye upon my Face or my Back, but
fiift leaning upon my Right-Side, I fold my Arms a-crofs, Co
that they may defend my Breaft, as it were with the Figure
of a Crofs, with my Right-hand upon my Left Shoulder, and
my Left upon my Right, and fo I flcep fweedy, either till I
awake of my felf, or am called up. Er. You are a little
Saint that can do thus. Ga. You are a little Fool for faying
fo. Er. I praife your Method, and I would I could pra-
dife it. Ga. Give your Mind to it and you will do it, for
when once you have accuftom'd your felf to it for a few
Months, thefe Things will be pleafanr, and become natural.
Er. But I want to hear concerning divine Service. Ga. I
don't neglect that, efpecially upon holy Days, Er. How da
you manage your felf on holy Days ? Ga. In the firft place
I examine my felf if my Mind be polluted by any Stain of
Sin. Er. And if you find it is, what do ycu then ? Do you
refrain from the Alrar? Ga. Not by my bodily Prefence,
but I withdraw my felf, as to my Mind, and {landing as it
were afar off, as tho' not daring to life up my Eyes to God
the Father, whom I have offended, I llrike upon my B'-eaft,
crying out with the Publican in the Gofpel, Lord, he merciful
to me a Sinner. And then if I know I have offended any
Man, I take care to make him Satisfadlion if I can prefently;
but if I cannot do that, I refolve in my Mind to reconcile my
Neighbour as foon as poffible. If any Body has offended me,
I forbear Revenge, and endeavour to bring it about, that he
that has offended me may be made fenfible of his Fault, and
be forry for it ; but if there be no hope of that, I leave all
Vengeance to God. Er. That's a hard Task. Ga. Is it hard^
to forgive a fmall Offence to your Brother, whofe mutual
Forgivenefs thou wilt ftand in frequent need of, when Chrift
has at once forgiven us all our Offences, and is every Day
forgiving us ? Nay, this feems to me not to be Liberality to
our Neighbour, but putting to Intereft to Godj juft as tho'
one Fellow-Servant fhould agree with another to forgive him
three Groats, that his Lord might forgive him ten Talents.
Er. You indeed argue very rationally, if what you fay be true.
Ga. Can you defire any thing truer than the Gofpel? Er.
That is unreafonable J but there are fome who can't believe
themfelves to be Chriftians unlefs they hear Mafs (as they call
it) every Day. Ga. Indeed I don't condemn the Pradice in
thofe that have Time enough, and fpend whole Days in pro-
fane Esercifesj but I only difapprove of thofe who fuperftirr-
oufly
[48 ]
oufly fancy that that Day muft needs be unfortunate to them
that they have not begun with the Mafs ; and prefently after
divine Service is over they go either to Trading, Gaming, or
the Court, where whatfoevcr fucceeds, though done juftly or
unjuftiy, they attribute to the MzCs. Er. Are there any Per-
fons that are fo abfurd ? Ga. The greateft Part of Mankind.
Er. But return to divine Service. Ga. If I can I get to ftand
fo clofe by the holy Altat:, that I can hear what the Prieft
reads, efpecially the Epiflle and the Gofpelj from thefe I
endeavour to pick fomething, which I fix in my Mind, and
this I ruminate upon for fome Time. Er. Don't you pray
at all in the mean time ? Ga. I do pray, but rather mental-
ly than vocally. From the Things the Prieft reads I take
occafion of Prayer. Er. Explain that a little more, I don'c
well take in what you mean. Ga. PlI tell you; fuppofe this
Epiftle was read. Purge out the old L.eai;en, that ye may be a
Keiu Lump, as ye are unlea'veited. On occafion of thefe
Words I thus addrefs myfelf to Chrift, " I wifh I were the
" unleavened Bread, pure from all Leaven of Malice ; but
" do thou, O Lord Jefus, who alone art pure, and free from
"■ all Malice, grant that I may every Day miore and more
" purge out the old Leaven." Again, if the Gofpel chance to
be read concerning the Sower fowing his Seed, I thus pray
with my felf, " Happy is he that deferves to be that good
*^ Grouad, and I pray that of barren Ground, he of his great
" Goodnefs would make me good Ground, without whofe
*' BlefiRng nothing at all is good." Thefe for Example fakci
for it would be tedious to mention every thing. But if I hap-
pen to meet with a dumb Prieft, (fuch as there are many in
Germany) or that I can't get near the Altar, I commonly get
a little Book that has the Gofpel of that Day and Epiftle, and
this I either fay out aloud, or run it over with my Eye. Et.
I underftand ; but with what Contemplations chiefly doft thou
pafs away the Time .^ Ga. I give Thanks to Jefus Chrift for
his unfpeakable Love, in condefcending to redeem Mankind
by his Death i T pray that he would not fuffer his moft holy
Blood to be fhed in vain for me, but that with his Body he
would always feed my Soul, and that with his Blood he
would quicken my Spirit, that growing by little and little in
the Increafe of Graces, I may be made a fit Member of his
myftical Body, which is the Church ; nor may ever fall from
that holy Covenant that he made with his eleffc Difciples at
the laft Supper, when he diftributed the Bread, and gave the
Cup; and through thefe, with all who are engrafFed into
his Society by Baptifm. And if I find my Thoughts to
wander, I read feme Pfalmsj or fome pious Matter, that
may
[4iP]
keep my Mind from wandring. Er. Have you any particu-
lar Pfalms for this purpofe. Ga. I have j bi^t I have not lb
eyed my felf up to them:, but that I can omir them, if any
Medication comes into my Mind that is more refreniing, than
the Recitation of thoie Pfahns. Er. What do you do as
to Failing ? Ga. I have nothing; to do with Fading, for fo
Jerome has taught me ; that Health is not to be impair'd by
fafting, until the Body is arrived at its full Strength. I ant
not quite 17 Years oldj but yet if I find Occafion, I
dine and fup fparingly, that I may be more lively for Spiri-
tual Exercifes on holy Days. Er. Since I have begun, I will
go through with my Enquiries. How do you find your felf
afFefted towards Sermons? Ga. Very v/ell, I go to them
as devoutly as if I was a going to a holy Affembly; and yzt
I pick and chufe whom to hear, for there are fome, one
had better not hear than h:?ar j and if fuch an one happens to
preach, or if it happen that no Body preacheS; I paf:- this
Time in reading the Scriptures, I read the Gofpel or Epiftle
with Chryfoftoin's or Jerome's Interpretation, or any other
learned Interpreter that I meet with. Er. But Word of
Mouth is more afFeding. Ga. I confefs it is. I had ra-
ther hear if I can bat meet with a tolctabla Preacher j but I
don't feem to be wholly deftitute of a Sermon if I hear Chry^
fofiom or ferome fpeaking by their Writings. Er. I am of
your Mind; but how do you ftand afiFeded as to Confefli-
on ? Ga. Very well; for I confefs daily. Er. Every
Day } Ga. Yes. Er. Then you ought to keep a Prieft to
your felf Ga. But I confefs to him who only truly re-
mits Sins, to whom all the Power is given. Er. To whom ?
Ga. To Chrift. Er. And do you think that's fufficient ?
Ga. It would be enough for me, if if were enough for the
Rulers of the Church, and receiv'd Cuftom. ErT Who do
you call the Rulers of the Church.? Ga. The P.^nes,
Bifhops and Apoftles. Er. And do you put Chrift into this
Number.? Ga. He is without controverfy the chief Head
of 'em all. Er. And was he the Authot of this Confeflion
in ufe? Qa. He is indet;d the Author of all good; but whe-
ther he appointed Confeilion as it is now us'd in the Church,
I leave to be difputed by Divines. The Authority of my
Betters is enough for me that am but a Lad and a private
Perfon. This is certainly the principal Confellion; nor is
it an eafy Matter to confefs to Chrift; no Body confefes
to him, but he that is angry with his Sin. If I have com-
inifted any great offence, 1 lay it open, and bewail it to, him,
and implore his Mercy; I cry out, weep and lament, nor do
1 give over before I feel the Love of Sin throughly purged from
E the
[50]
the Bottom of my Heart, and fome Tranquility and Chearful-
nefs of Mind fol'CW upon it, which is an Argument of the
Sin being pardoned. And when the Time requires to go to
the holy Communion of the Body and Blood of Chriftj
then I make Confeffion to a Priefl too, but in few Words,
and nothing but what I am well fatisfy'd are Faults, or fuch
that carry in them a very great Sufpicion that they are fuch ;
neither do I always take it to be a capital or enormous
Crime, every thing that is done contrary to human donfti-
tutions, unlefs a wicked Conremptuoufnefs fhall go along
with it: Nay, I fcarce believe any Crime to be Capital,
that has not Malice join'd with it, that is, a perverfe Will.
Er. I commend you, that you are fo religious, and yet not
fuperftitious : Here I think the old . Proverb takes Place :
Nee omnia, nee pajjim, 7iec quibtijlibet. That a Perfon fhculd
neither fpeak all, nor every where, nor to all Perfons. Ga.
I chufe me a Pricft, that I can truft Vv'ith the Secrets of my
Heart. Er. That's wifely done : For theje are a great many,
as is found by Experience, do blab out what in Confeffi-
omis difcovered to them. And there are fome vile impu-
dent Fellows that enquire of the Perfon confefling thofe
things, that it were better if they were conceal'd j and there
are fome unlearned and foolifli Fellows, who for the fake
of filthy Gain, lend their Ear, but apply not their Mind,
who can't diftinguifh between a Fault and a good Deed, nor
can neither teach, comfort nor advife. Thefe things I have
heard from many, and in part have experienced my felf. Ga.
And I too muchj therefore I chufe me one that is learn'd,
grave, of approv'd Integrity, and one that keeps his Tongue
.within his Teeth. Er Truly you are happy that can make
a Judgment of things fo early. Ga. But above all, I take
care of doing any Thing that I can't fafely truft a Prieft
with. Er. That's the beft Thing in the World, if you can
but do fo. Ga. Indeed it is hard to us of our felves, but by
the Help of Chrift it is eafy; the greateft Matter is, that there
be a Will to it. I often renew my Refolution, efpecially
upon Sundays: And befides that, I endeavour as much as
I can to keep out of evil Company, and aflociate my felf
with good Company, by whofe Converfation I may be
better'd. Er. Indeed you manage yourfelf rightly: For
evil Cowverfations corrupt good JMaanen. Ga. I fliun Idle-
nefs as the Plague. Er. You are very right, for Idleneft
is the Root of all Evil^ but as the World goes now, he
muft live by himfelf ihat would keep out of bad Company.
Ga. What you fay is very true, for as the Greek wife Men
hid the bad are the greateit Number. But J chufe the beft
2 OUC
[ iO
out of a feWj and fotnetimes a good Companion, makes his
Companion better. I avoid thofe Diverlions that incite to
Naughtinefs, and ufe thofe that are innocent. I behave my
felf courteous to all ; but familiarly with none but thofe *
that are good. If I happen at any Time to fall into bad
Company, f either corre6l them by a foft Admonition,
or wink at and bear with them, if I can do them no good ;
but I be fure to get out of their Company as foon as I
can. Er. Had you never an itching Mind to become a
Monk. Ga. Never; but I have been often follicited to ic
by fome, that call you into a Monaftery, as into a Pore
from a Shipwreck. Er Say you fo ? Were they in Hopes
of a Prey ? Ga. They fet upon both me and my Parents
with a great many crafty Perfuafionsj but I have taken a
Refolution not to give my Mind either to Matrimony or
Prieiihood, nor to be a Monk, nor to any kind of Life
out of which I can't extricate my felf, beiore I know my
felf very well. Er. When will that be? Ga. Perhaps ne-
ver. But before the 28th Year of ones Age, nothing lliould
be refolved on. Er. Why fo } Ga. Becaufe I hear every
where, fo many Priefts, Monks and married Men lamenting,
that they hurried themfelves rafhly into Servitude. Er.
You are very cautious not to be catch'd. Ga. In the mean
Time I take a fpecial care of three things. Er. What are
they ? Ga. Firft of all to make a good Progrefs in Mo-
rality, and if I can't do that, I am refolv'd to maintain an
unfpotted Innocence and good Name j and laft of all I fur-
nifh my felf with Languages and Sciences that will be of Ufe
in any kind of Life. Er. But do you negled the Poets?
Ga. Not wholly, but I read generally the chafteft of them,
and if I meet with any Thing that is not modeft, I pafs thac
by, as UljJJes paffed by the Syrens, flopping his Ears. Er.
To what Kind of Study do you chiefly addid your felf ?
To Phyfick, the Common or Civil Law, or to Divinity ?
For Languages, the Sciences and Philofophy are all conducive
to any Profeffion whatfoever. Ga. I have not yet tho-
roughly betaken my felf to any one particularly, but I take
a Tafte of all, that I be not wholly ignorant of any; and
the rather, that having tafted of ail I may the better chu(e
that I am fitteft for. Medicine, is a certain Portion in what-
foever Land a Man is j the Law is the way to Preferment :
But I like Divinity the beft, faving that the Manners of fome
of the Profedors of ir, and the bitter Contentions that are a-
mong them, difpleafe me. Er. He won't be very apt to fall
that goes fo warily along. Many in thefe Days are frighted
from Divinity, becaufe they are afraid they iTaould not be
E a found
[ 50
found in the Catholick Faith, becaufe they fee no Principle
of Religion:, but what is called in Queftion. Ga I beheve
firmly what I read in the holy Scriptures, and the Creed,
called the Apoftles, and I don't trouble my Head any farther:
I leave the reft to be difputed and defined by the Clergy, if
they pleafe j and if any thing is in common UCe with Chri-
ftians that is not repugnant to the holy Scriptures, I obferve
it for this Reafon, that I may not offend other People. Er.
What Thales taught you that Philofophy ? Ga When I
was a Boy and very youngs I happen'd to live in the Houfe
with that honefteft of Men * jfoha Colet, do you know him ?
Er. Know himi ay, as well as I do you. Ga. He inftrudt-
ed me when I was young in thefe Precepts. Er. You
won't envy me, I hope, if 1 endeavour to imitate you?
Ga. Nay, by that means you will be much dearer to me.
For you know. Familiarity and good Will, are clofer ty'd^
by Similitude of Manners. ' Er. True, but not among Can-
didates for the fame Office, when they are both fick of the
fame Difeafe. Ga No, nor between two Sweet-hearts of
the fame Miftrefs, when they arc both fick of the fame
Love. Er. But without jefting, I'll try to imitate that Courfc
of Life, Ga. I wifh you as good Succefs as may be. Er^
It may be I fhall overtake thee. Ga. I wiflr you might gee
before me j but in the mean Time I won't ftay for you ;
but I will every Day endeavour to out-go myfelt, and do
you endeavour to out-gq me if you can.
The Argument.
1ti)is Colloquy pre [ents you with the Art of Huntings Fijh-
ing^ of bringing Earth'lVorms out of the Ground,
of Jiicking Frogs.
I*AUL, Thomas, Vincent, Lawrence,
Bartholus.
jp 4. Every one to his Mind. I love Hunting. Th And
•* fo do I too, but where are the Dogs ? The hunting
Poles ? And the hunting Nets ? Pa. Farewel Boars, Bears,
* John Coht was an Englijhman of good Reputation and Learning; a
fimiliar Acquaintance of Erajmus, to whom there are many Letters of Erafmus
fiow extant*
Bucksj
Ci3]
Bucks, and Foxes, well lay Snares for Rabbets. Vi. Buc
I'll fee Gins for Loculls and Crickets. La. But I'll carch
Frogs. Ba. I'll hunt Butterflies. La. 'Tis difficult to follow
flying Creatures. Ba. Ic is difficult, but 'tis fine Sporty
unlefs you think it finer Sport to hunt after Earth-worms,
Snails or Cockles, becaufe they have no Wings. La. In-
deed I had rather go a Fifhingj I have a neat Hook. Ba.
But where will you get Baits ? La. There are Earth-worms
enough every where to be had. Ba. So there is, if they
would but creep out of the Ground to you. La. But I'll
make a great many thoufand jump out prefently. B<«. How ?
By Witch-craft? La. You fhall fee the Art. Fill this Buck-
et with Water, break thefe green peels of Walnuts to Pie-
ces and put into it : Wet the Ground with the Water.
Now mind a litde, do you fee them coming out.? Ba. I fee
a Miracle. I believe the armed Men flatted out of the
Earth after this Manner from the Serpents [i] Teeth than
were fown : But a great many Fifh are of too fins and de-
licate a Palate to be catch'd by fuch a vulgar Bait. La.
I know a certain Sort of an Infcd that I us'd to catch
fuch with. Ba. See if you can impofe upon the Fiilies fo,
I'll make work with the Frogs, La. How, with a Net ?
Ba. No, with a Bow. La, That's a new way of Fiffiing !
Ba. But 'tis a pleafant one j you'll fay fo, when you fee it.
Vi. What if we two lliouW play at holding up our Fingers ?
Ba. That's an idle, clownifh Play indeed, fitter for them that
are fitting in a Chimney Corner, than thofe that are ranging
in the Field. Vi. What if wq ffiould play at Cob-Nut ? Pa.
Let us let Nuts alone for little Chits, we are great Boys.
Vi. And yet we are but Boys for all that. Fa. But they
that are fit to play at Cob-Nut, are fit to ride upon a Hob-
by-Horfe. Vi. Well then, do you fay what we fhall play
at; and I'll play at what you will, Fa. And I'll be con-
formable.
[i] This refers to the Fable in the 2d Book of O-vid's Metamorphofes
where Cadmus fcattering the Serpents Teeth on the Groundj armed Men
/prang up.
E 3 The
[54]
The Argument.
Sl'/i' Colloquy treats of fcholajlick Studies^ and School
Plays. I. 'The Boys going into the School. The fir i-
king of a Clock. A 'ujhlpping Mafter. Of faying a
Lejfon. ■ Fear hurts the Memory, i. 0/ IFriting^
the Paper finks. Of making a Pen. Of a hard Nip-
Afoft Nip. Of Writing quick^ well. ^
STLFIUS, JOHN.
Cr. What makes you run fo, Johjt} Jo. What makes a
*^ Hare run before the Dogs, as they ufe to fay? 5;-/.
What Proverb is this ? Jo. Becaufe unlefs I am there in Time^
before the Bill is called over, I am fure to be whipp'd. Sy.
You need not be afraid of that, it is but a little paft five:
Look upon the Clock, the Hand is not come to the half
Hour Point yet. Jo. Ay, but I can fcarce truft to Clocks,
they go wrong fometimes. Sy. But truft me then, I heard
the Clock ftrikc. Jo. What did that flrike ? Sy. Five. Jo.
But there is fomething elfe that I am more afraid of than
that, I muft fay by heart a good long Leffon for Yefterday,
and I am afraid 1 can't fay it. Sy. I am in the fame Cafe,
with you j. for I my felf have hardly got mine ais it fliould
be. Jo. And you know the Mafter's Severity. Every Fault
is a Capital one with him : He has no more Mercy of our
Breeches, than if they were made of a Bull's Hide. Sy. But
he won't be in the School. Jo. Who has he appointed in his
Place ? Sy. Cornelius. Jo. That fquint-ey'd Fellow ! Wo
to our Back-fides, he's a greater Whip-Mafter than Busby
himfelf Sy. You fay very true, and for that Reafon I have
often wifh'd he had a Palfy in his Arm. Jo. It is not pious to
wifh ill to ones Mafter: it is our Bufinefs rather to take care
rot to fall under the Tyrant's Hands. Sy. Let us fay one to
another, one repeating and the other looking in the Book."
y(?. That's well thought on. 6). Come, be of good Heart;
for Fear fpoils the Memory. Jo. I could eafily lay afide Fear,
if I were out of Danger j but who can be at eafe in hi? Mind,
that is in fo much Danger. Sy. I confefs foj but we are
not in Danger of our Heads, but of our Tails.
0/
Iss-i
z. Of Writing.
CORNELIUS, ANDREW.
Co. You write finely:, but your Paper finks. Your Paper
is damp, and the Ink finks through it. ^//. Pray make me
a Pen of this. Co. I have not a Pen-knife, J^??. Here is
one for you. Co. Oat on'c, how blunt it is ! ^n. Take the
Hoan. Co. Do you love to write with a hard-nip'd Pen,
or a foft ? An. Make it fit for your own Hand. Co. I ufe to
write with a foft Nip. y^n Pray write me out the Alpha-
bet. Co. Greek or Latin? .An. Write me the Latin firft; I'll
try to imitate it. Co. Give me fome Piiper then. A?i Take
fome. Co. But my Ink is too thin, by often pouring in of
Water. .An. But my Cotton is quite dry. Co. Squeeze it,
or elfe Pifs in it. An. I had rather get fome Body to give me
fome. Co. It is better to have of ones own, than to borrow.
An. What's a Scholar without Pen and Ink ? Co. The fame
that a Soldier is without Shield or Sword. An. I wifla my
Fingers were fo nimble, I can't write as faffc as another
fpeaks. Co. Let it be your firft chief Care to write well, and
your next to write quick: No more Hafte than good Speed.
An. Very well ; fay to the Mafter when he didates, no
more Hafte than good Speed.
A Form of giving 'Thanks.
PETER, CHRISTIAN.
Pe. You have oblig'd me, in that you have written to
me fometimes. I thank you for writing to me often. I
love you, that you have not thought much to fend me
now and then a Letter. I give you Thanks that you have
vificed me with frequent Letters. I thank you for loading
of me with Packets of Letters. I thank you heartily.
Thanks that you have now and then provoked me with
Letters. You have oblig'd me very much that you have
honour'd me with your Letters. I am much beholden to you
for your moft obliging Letters to me. I take it as a great
Favour, that you have not thought much to write tome.
E 4 'The
[in
'the Anfwer.
Ch. Indeed I ought to bej^ Pardon for my Prefumption,
who dar'd prefume to trouble a Man of io much Bufinels,
and fo much Learning wiih my unlearned Letters. I acknow-
}p,^o-e yoar ulual hurn.inicV;, who h:ive taken my Boldnefs in
good Parr. I was afraid my Lctcers had given you fome Of-
fence, that you fent me no Anfwer. There is no Reafon
that you fhould thank me, it is more than enough for me, if
you have taken my Indullry in good Part.
j^ Form of asking after News.
Te. Is there no News come from our Country? Have
you had any Ne^s from our Countrymen' What News?
Do you bring any News? Is there any News come to
Town? Is there any News abroad from our Country?
^the Anfwer.
Ch. There is much News; but nothing of Truth. News
enough indeed ; but nothing certain. A great deal of News;
but nothing to be depended upon. Not a little News; but
not much Truth. There is no News come. I have had no
News at all. Something. of News; but nothing certain.
There are a great many Reports come to Town; but they
are all doubiful There is a great deal of Talk; but no-
thing true, nothing certain. If Lies pleafe, I have brought
you a whole Cart-LoaJ of them. I bring you whole
Bufhels of Tales. I bring you as many Lies as a good
Ship v/ill carry. Fe. Then unlade your felf as faft as you
can, for fear you fhould fink, being fo over-freighted. Ch.
J h.:ve nothing but what's the Chat of Barbers Shops,
C( aches and Boats.
Han't you received any Letters, the Form.
Pe. Have you had no Letters? Have you had any Let-
ters out of your own Country? Have no Letters been
brought to you? Have you receiv'd any Letters? Have
z yoa
. [57 ]
you had any Letters? Have you received any Letters from
your Friends? Are there no Letters come from Francel
'the Anpwer.
Ch. I have received no Letters. I han't had fo much as a
Letter. I han't had the leaft Bit of a Letter. No Body has
fent me any Letter. There is not the leaft Word come
from any Body. I have received no more Letters for this
long Time, than what you fee in my Eye. Indeed I had
rather have Money than Letters. I had rather receive Mo-
ney than Letters. I don't matter Letters, fo the Money
does but come. I had rather be paid, than be written to.
/ believe fo. the Form.
Pe. I eafily believe you. That is not hard to be believ'd.
It is a very eafy thing to believe that. Who would not
believe you in that? He will be very incredulous, that
won't believe you in that Matter. In truth I do believe
you. You will caiily make me believe that. I can believe
you without fwearing. What you fay is very likely. But
for all that. Letters bring fome Comfort. I had rather have
either of them, than neither.
- Of Profit. A Form. ,
Ch. What fignlfies Letters without Money ? What figni-
fies empty Letters ? What do empty Letters avail ? What
good do they do, what do they profit, advantage? To
v/hom are Letters grateful or acceptable without Money ?
What Advantage do empty Letters bring? What are idle
Letters good for? What do they do? What ufe are they of?
What are they good for? What Ao they bring with thenx
of Moment ? What Ufe are empty Letters of?
the Anfwer,
Te. They are ufeful, fit, proper, to wipe your Breech with.
They are good to wipe your Backfide with. If you don't
know the Ufe of them, they are g^od to wipe your Arfe
with. To wipe your Breech with. To wipe your Backfide
with. They are good to cleanfe that Part of the Body that
often
[i8]
often fouls itfelf. They are good to wrap Mackrel in. Good
to make up Grocery Ware in.
Of 'wijhing Well.
I. 'To a Man whofe Wife is 'with Child.
Fe. What ? are our little Friends well ? How does your
Wife do.? Ch. Very well, I left her with her Mother, and
with Child. Pe. I wi(h it niay be well for you, and her
too: To you, becaufe you're fliortly to be a Father, and fhe
a Mother. God be with you. 1 pray and defire that it
may be profperous and happy to you both. I pray, I beg
of God that (he, having a fafe Delivery, may bear a Child
worthy of you both , and may make you a Father of a fine
Child. I commend you that you have fhewed your ielf to
be a Man. I am glad you have prov'd your felf to be a
Man. You have fliew'd your felf to be a Gallus, but not
[i] Cjbeles. Now you may go, I believe, you are a Man.
Cb. You joke upon me, as you are ufed to do. Well, po
on, you may fay what you pleafe to me.
2. To one coming home into his own Country.
Ch. I hear, you have lately been in your own Country.
Fe. I have To, I had been out of it a pretty while. I
could not bear to be out of it long. \ could not bear to .
be out of my Parents Sight any longer. I thought long
till I enjoy'd my Friends Company. Ch. You have adled
very pioufly. You are very good Humour'd, to think of
thofe Matters. We have all a ftrange Afifedion for the
Country that hath bred us, and brought us forth.
jis Ovid fays :
Nefcio qua 7iatale folum dulcedine cmtBos
Ducifi (^ immemores non Jin it ejje fut.
Pray tell me how did you find all Things there.'
[i.] TheP,iefts of Cybelethe Mother of the Gods, were calj'd Calli, and
were gelded or depnvd of their Genitals, and therefore could not /hew them,
lelves as Fathers or Men,
[ 59 3
jill Things new. 'The Form.
Ve. Nothing bur what was new. All Things changed^ all
Things become new. See how fcon Time chanties all hu-
man Affairs. Methought I came into another World. I had
fcarce been abfent ten Years, and yet I admired at every
Thing, as much as Epmevides the Prince of Sleepers, when
he firft wak'd out of his Sleep. Ch. What Story is that?
What Fable is that } Pe. I'll tell you if you are at Leifure.
Ch. There is nothing more pleafant. Pe Then order me a
Chair and a CuHiion. Ch. That's very well thought on, for
you will tell Lyes the better, fitting at eafe. Pe. Hiftorians
tell us a Story, of one Ephnenldes a Man of Crete, who
taking a walk alone by himfelf without the City, beino-
caught in a hafty Shower of Rain, went for Shelter into
a Cave, and there fell afleep, and flepc on for feven and
forty Years together.
/ don't helie've it. The Form.
ch. What a Story you tell } 'Tis incredible. What you
fay is not very likely. You tell me a Fidlion. I don't think
'tis true. You tell me a monftrous Story. Are you not
afliara'd to be guilty of fb wicked a Lye } This is a Fable fit
to be put among [i] Luciaji's Legends. Pe. Nay, I tell you
what is related by Authors of Credit, unlefs you think [2]
Auhs Gellius is not an Author of approv'd Credit. Ch. Nay,
whatfoever he has written, are Oracles to me [3]. Pe. Do
you think that a Divine dream'd fo many Years.? For it is
iloried that he was a Divine. Ch. I am with Child to hear.
The Anfwer.
Pe. What is it more than what Scotm and the School-men
did afterwards.? But Epimenides, he came off pretty well, he
came to himfelf again at laft j but a great many Divines nevef ^
[i] Lucian of Samos, who in the Time of Diockfian, wrote Dialogues in
Greek.
[2] The Author of the NoBes Attica. . .
{3] The Oracles of the Sykihy elpecially that of Cuma, were sc:cuntedto
ie then of the greateft certainty.
wake
[ fo ]
wake out of their Dreams. Cb. Well ^o on, you do like a
Poet i but go on with your Lye. Pe. Epimenides waking out
of his Sleep, goes out of his Cave, and looks about him,
and kes all Things chang'd, the Woods, the Banks, the Ri-
vers, the Trees, the Fields, and, in fhorr, there was nothing
but was new: He goes to the City, and enquires j he
ftays there a little while, but knows no Body, nor did any
Body know him: The iVIen were drefs'd after another Fa-
fliion, than what they were before j they had not the I'ame
Countenances i their Speech was alter'd, and their Manners
quite different : Nor do I wonder it v/as fo with EpmenideSt
after fo many Years, when it wa<f almoft fo with me, when
I had been abfent but a few Tears, Ch. But how do your
Father and Mother do } Are they living } Pe. They are both
alive and well; but pretty much worn out v/ith old Age, Di-
feafes, and laltly, wich the Calamities of War. Ch. This is
the Comedy of human Life. This is the inevitable Law
of Deftiny.
fF'ords, Names of Affinity.
Pe. Will you fup at Home to Day ? Ch. I am to fup a-
broad : I miift go out to Supper. Pe. With whom ? Ch.
With my Father in Law; -.vith my Son in Law; at my
Daughter's in Law ; with my Kinfman. They are call'd,
Affines, Kinfmen, who are ally'd nor by Blood, bur Mar-
riage. Pe. What are the ufual Names of Affinity ? Ch. A
Husband and Wife are noted Names.
Socer, Is miy Wife's Father.
Gcner, My Daughter's Husband.
Socrusy My Wife's Mother.
Nurus, My Son's Wife.
l^evir, A Husband's Brother. Levir is call'd by the Wife,
as Helen calls Heiior, Levir, becaufe ilie was married to
Paris.
Fratria, My Brother's Wife.
Glofy A Husband's Sifter.
VitricuSy My Mother's Husband.
No'vercuy My Father's Wife.
Privignusy 1 he Son of my Wife or Husband.
Privigna, The Daughter of cither of them.
JRivalis, He that loves the fame Woman another does.
Pellex,
[ 6l ]
Telkx, She that loves the fame Man another d'^e?; as Th'a-
lb is the Rival of Vhradria, and Europa the Fellex of '/uno.
Of inviting to a Feafi.
Dine with me to Morrow.
Fe. I <^ive you thanks, I commend you, I invite you to
Supper againft to Morrow. I entreat your Company at Sup-
per to Morrow. I defire you'd come to Dinner with me
to Morrow. I would have your Company at Dinner to
Morrow.
/ fear I can't come,
Ch. I fear I can't. I am afraid I cant. I will come if I
can i but I am afraid I can't.
Te. Why can't you? How fo? Why fo? Wherefore?
For what Reafon ? For what Caufe ? What hinders )'ou that
you can't.
I mup flay at Home.
Ch. Indeed I muft be at Home at that Time. I muft needs
be at Home at Night. I muft not be abroad at that Tim»e.
I {hall not have an Opportunity to go out any where to Mor-
row. I muft not be abfent at Dinner. I expe6t fome Guefts
my felf upon that Day. Some Friends have made an Ap-
pointment to fup at our Houfe that Night. I have fome
Guefts to entertain that Night, or elfe I would come with all
my Heart. Unlefs it were fo, I would not be unwilling to
come. If it were not fo, I iTiould not want much encreating.
I would make no Excufe if I could come. If I could come,
I would noc be ask'd twice. IF I could by any means com^e,
I would come with a very little, or without any Invitation at
all. If I could, I would obey your Command very readily.
It is in vain to ask one that is not at his own Difpofa! : And
there would be no need to ask me if I could come: Bur at
prefent, though I had never fo much xMind, I can't j and ic
would be altogether unneceflary to ask one thar is v>/ilhng.
Te. Then pray let me have your Company the next Day
after: Howevefj I muft needs have your Company at Supper
the
[ 6^ ]
the next Diy after to Morrow. You muft not deny me
your Company four Days hence. You muft make no Ex-
cufe as to coming next Thurfday.
/ can't protnife.
Ch. I can't promife. I cannot pofitively promife you. I^
can't certainly promife you. \ will come when it Ihall be
moffc convenient for us both.
Tou ought to fet the Day.
Te. I would have you appoint a Day when you will come
to fup with me. You muft affign a Day. You muft fet the
Day. I defire 2 certain Day may be prefix'd^ prefcrib'd, ap-
pointed, fet j but fet a certain Day. I would have you tell
me the Day.
/ would not ha've you know before Hand.
Ch. Indeed I don't ufe to fet a Day for my Friends. I am
ufed to fet a Day for rhofe I'm at Law with. I would not
have you know before Hand. I'll take you at unawares. I'll
come unexpededly. I will catch you when you don't think
on me. I fliall take you when you don't think on me. I'll
come unlook'd for, I'll come upon you before you are
aware. I'll come an uninvited and unexpe6ted Gueft.
/ would know before Hand.
Ve. I would know two Days before Hand. I w®uld
know two Days before. Give me Notice two Days before
you come. Make me acquainted two Days before. Ch.
If you will have me, I'll make a Sybaritkal Appointment,
that you may have Time enough to provide afore Hand.
Fe. What appointment is that.? Ch. The Sybarities invited
their Guefts againft the next Year, that they might both have
Time to be prepar'd. Te. Away with the Sybarites, and their
troublefome Entertainments: I invite an old Chrony, and
not a Courtier.
Tou defire to your own Detriment.
Ch. Indeed 'tis to your Detriment. Indeed 'tis to your
own Harm. To your own Lofs. You wifli for it. You pray for
that
[^3 ]
tbat to your own Ill-convenience. Fe. Why (b ? Wherefore.'
Ch. I'll come provided. I'll come prepar'd. I'll Tet upoa
you accoutred. I'll conne furnifli'd with a iliarp Stomach j
do you take care that you have enough to fatisfy a Vulture.
I'll prepare my Belly and whet my Teeth ; do you look to
it, to get enough to iacisfy a Wolf. Pe. Come and welcome,
I dare you to it. Come on, if you can do any thing, do ic
to your utmoft, with all your Might, Ch. I'll come, but I
won't come alone. Fe. You (hall be the more welcome for
that; but who will you bring with you.? Cb. My Umbra.
Pe. You can't do otherwife if you come in the Day Time.
Ch. Ay, but I'll bring one Umbra or two that have o-oc
Teeth, that you fhan't have invited me for nothing. Pe.
Well, do as you will, fo you don't bring any Ghoits along
with you. But if you pleafe explain what is the Meaning of
the Word Umbra. Ch. Am.ong the Learned they are call'd
Umbra, v.'ho being uninvited, bear another Perfon, that is
invited. Company to a Feafb. Pe. Well, bring fuch Ghofts
along with you as many as you will.
'•> d « O «» « <» 'a <«i 4» '9 .:3 •:S
I promlfe upon this Condition.
Ch. Well, I will come, but upon this Condition, that you
fliall come to Supper with me' the next Day. I will do it
upon this Condition that you lliall be my Gueft afterwards.
Upon that Condition t pvomife to come to Supper, that you
again fhall be my Gueft. I promife I will, but upon thefe
Terms, that you in the like Manner fhall be my Gueft the
next Day.^^I promife I will, I give you my Word I will,
upon this Confideration, that you dine v/ith me the next Day.
Pe. Come on, let ic be done, let it be fo. It fliall be as you
would have it. If you command me, I'll do it. I know the
Premh Ambition, You won't fup with me, but you'll make
me amends for it. And fo by this Means FeaRs ufe to go
round. From hence it comes to pafs, that it is a long Time
before we have done feafring one with another. By this fe-
terchangeablenefs Feafts become reciprocal without End. Cb.
It is the pleafanteft Vv/'ay of Living in the World, if no more
Provifion be made, but what is ufed to be made daily.
But, I detain you, it may be, when vou are goiiTT fome
whither. Pe. Nay, I beli -ve, I do you. ' But we'll talk more
largely and more freely to Morrow. But we'll divert our
felves to Morrow more plentifully. In the mean Time take
Care
C ^4 ]
Care of your Health. In the mean Time take Care to keep
yourfelf in good Health. Farewell till then.
Whither are you going? 'The Form.
Ch. Where are you a going now.? Whirher are you gointr
fo faft? Where are you a going in fuch great Haite. Whi^
ther go you } What's your Way "?
I go home. The Form.
Te. I go home. I return home, I go home. I return
home. I go home. I go to fee what they are a doing ac
home. I go to call a Doctor. I am going into the Country.
I made an Appointment juft at this Time to go to fpeak with
a certain great Man. I made an Appointment to meet a
great Man at this Time. Ch. Whom Te. Talkative 'Curio.
Ch. I wifh you Mercurfs AlTiftance. Fe. What need of Mey'r
curfs Affiftance .? Ch. Becaufe you have to do with a Man
of Words. Pe. Then it were more proper to wifh the AfTi-
ftance of the Goddefs 7»/mori^ Ch. Why fo? Pe. Becaufe
you'll have more Occafion for patient Ears, than a ftrenuous
Tongue. And the Ear is dedicated to the Goddefs Memoria,
Ch. Whither are you going .> Whither will you go? Fe.
This Way, to the left Hand. This Way, that Way, through
the Market. Ch. Then I'll bear you Company as far as the
next Turning. Fe. I won't let you go about. You fhan'c
put your felf to fo much Trouble upon ray Account. Save
that Trouble till it fhall be of Ufe, it is altogether unneceffary
at this Time. Don't go out of your Way upon my Account.
Ch. 1 reckon I fave my Time while I enjoy the Company
of fo good a Friend. I have nothing elfe to do, and I am
not fo lazy, if my Company won't be troublefome. Fe. No
Body is a more pleafant Companion. But I won't fufFer you
to go on my left Hand. I won't let you walk on my left
Hand. Here [I bid God be with you. I fliall not bear you
Company any looger. You Ihan'c go further with me.
A Form
A Form of recommending.
Ch. Recommend me kindly to Curio. Recommend me as
kindly as may be to talkative Curio. Take Care to recom-
mend me heartily to Curio. I delire you have me recom-
mended to him. I recommend my felf to him by you. I
recommend my felf to you again and again. I recommend
my felf to your Favour with all the Earneftnefs pofTible.
Leave recommendo inftead of commendo to 'Barbarians, See
that you don't be fparing of your Speech with one that is
full of Tongue. See that you be not of few Words with
him that is a M^n of many Words.
A Form of Ohfequioufnefs,
Fe. Would you have me obey you.? Would you have me
. be obedient.^ Shall I obey you? Then you command me to
imitate you. Since you would have it fo, I'll do it with all
my Heart. Don't hinder me any longer ; don't let us hinder
one another. Ch. But before you go, I increat you not to
think much to teach me how I muft ufe thefe Sentences, m
mora, in cau/a, in culfa-^ you ufe to be ftudious of Elegancy.
Wherefoi-e come on, 1 entreat you teach me j explain it to
me, I'll love you dearly.
In Culpa ^ In Caufd^ In Mora.
Pe. I muft do as you would have me. The Fault is not:
in me. It is not in thee. The Delay is in thee. Thou art
the Caufe, is indeed grammatically fpoken j thefe are more
elegant.
In Culpa.
I am not in the Fault. The Fault is not mine, t am
without Fault. Your Idlenefs has been the Caufe, that you
have made no Proficiency, not your iVIafter nor your Father.
You are all in Fault. You are both in Fault. You are both
to be blam'd. Ye arc both to be accus'd. Ye are both ia
F Faulc.
I 66 -]
Fault. You have gotten this Diftemper by your own iil
Management. In like manner they are faid to be in vitio>
to whom the Fault is to be imputed ; and in crimine, they
who arc to be blam'dj and /;z damno ejfe, who are Lofers.
This Sort of Phrafe is not to be inverted commonly, Dam~
num in illo eji. Vitium in illo efi.
In Caufd.
Sicknefs has been the occafion that I have not written to
you . My Affairs have been the Caufe that I have written to
you fo feldom, and not Negle61:, What was the Caufe?
What Caufe was there ? I was not the Caufe. The Poft-man
was in the Fault that you have had no Letters from me.
Love and not Study is the Caufe of your being fo lean*
This is this Caufe.
In Mora.
I won't hinder you. What has hinder'd you ? You have
hindred us. You are always a Hindrance. What hindred
you? Who has hindred you? You have what you ask'd for.
It is your Duty to remember it. You have the Reward of
your Refped'. Farewel, my Chrijiian. Ch. And fare you
well till to Morrow, my Teter.
yit Meeting.
CHRIS'njNy AUSTIN.
Ch. God fave you heartily, fweet Aufiin. Au. I wifh the
fame to you, moft kind ChrijUan. Good Morrow to you.
I wifh you a good Day; but how do you do? Ch. Very
well as things go, and I wifh you what you wifh for. Au.
I love you defervedly. I love thee. Thou deferveft to be
lov'd heartily. Thou fpeakeft kindly. Thou art courteous. I
give thee Thanks.
/ ajn angry with thee. 'The Form.
Ch. But I am fomething angry with you. But I am t
little angry with you. But I a^n a little angry with you.
t ^7 1
But I am a little provok'd at you. I have fonlfething to be
angry with you for.
For what Caufe. 'The Form.
Au. I pray what is it? Why fo? But why, I befeech you?
What Crime have I committed? What have I done? Fro^
tnereor bona, I deferve Good j Commereor mala, I deferve IlL
or Puniflament : The one is ufed in a good Senfe, and the
other in an 111. Demeremer eum, is laid of him that we have
attach'd to us by Kindnels.
Becaufe you dorCt Regard me.
€h. Becaufe you take no Care of me. Becaufe you don^c
regard me. Becaufe you come to fee us fo feldom. Becaufe
you wholly negledl us. Becaufe you quite negledl me. Be-
caufe you feem to have caft off all Care of us. Au. Bun
there is no Caufe for you to be angry. But you are angry
without my Defert, and undefervedly j for it has not been
my Fault, that I have come to fee you but feldom: Forgive
my Hurry of Bufineft that has hindered me from feeing you,
as often as I would have done. Ch. I will pardon you upon
this Condition, if you'll come to Supper with me to Night.
I'll quit you upon that Condition, if you come to Supper
With me in the Evening. Au. Chrijlian, you prefcribe no
hard Articles of Peace, and therefore I'll come with all my
Heart. Indeed I will do it willingly. Indeed I would dd
that with all Readinefs in the World. I fhan't do that un-
willingly. I won't want much Courting to that. There is
nothing in the World that I would do with more Readinefs.
I will do it with a willing Mind, Ch. I commend your o-
bliging Temper in this, and in all other Things. Att. I ufe
always to be thus obfequious to my Friends, efpecially whea
they require nothing but what's reafonable. O ridiculous I
Do you think I would refufe when ofFer'd me, that which i
fhould have ask'd for of my own accord.
a Bo?fi
Don^t deceive me. 1'he Form.
Ch. Well, but take care you don't delude me. See you
don't deceive me. Take care you don't make me feed a
vain Hope. See you don't fail my Expedation. See you
don't difappoint me. See you don't lull me on with a vain
Hope. -^». There is no need to fwear. In other Things,
in other Matters you may be afraid of Perfidy. In this I won't
deceive you. But hark you, fee that you provide nothing but
what you do daily : I would bjive no holy Day made upon
my Account. You know that I am a Gueft that am no
great Trencher Man, but a very merry Man, Ch. I'll be
fure to take care. I will entertain you with [i] Scholars
Commons, if not with flenderer Fare. y^u. Nay, if you'd
pleafe me, let it be with Diogenes's [2] Fare. Ch. You may
depend upon it, I will trCat you with a Platonkk Supper, in
which you fhall have a great many learned Stories, and but
a litde Meat, the Pleafure of which fhall laft till the next
Day: whereas they that have been nobly entertain'd, enjoy
perhaps a litde Pleafure that Day, but the next are troubled
Vv'ith the Head-ach, and Sicknefs at the Stomach. He that
fupp'd with Plato, had one Pleafure from the eafy Prepara-
tion, and Phiiofopher's Stories; and another the next Day,
that his Head did not ach, and that his Stomach was not
iick, and fo had a good Dinner of the fame of laft Night's
Supper. .Au. I like it very well, let it be as you have faid.
Ch. Do you fee that you leave all your Cares and melan-
choly Airs at Home, and bring nothing hither but Jokes and
Merriment j and as Juvenal fays,
Trotenus ante meiim, qu'icquid dolet, exue limen.
Lay all that troubles doivn before my Door, before you
come into it.
"Au. What ? Would you have me bring no Learning along
with me.^ I will bring my Mufes with me, unlefs you think
it not convenient. Ch. Shut up your ill-natured Mufes at
Home with your Buhnefs, but bring your good-natured Mu-
'l] Pythagoras the Philofopher lived upon Herbs.
[aj Diogenes fared harder than Pythagoras, a Tub was his Houfe, Watet
Ills Drinks his Hand his Cup, and Herbs his Food,
fes, all your witty Jefe your By- words, your Banters^ your
PJeafantriesj your pretty Sayings, and all your Ridiculolities
along with you. ^«. I'll do as you bid me; put on all my
beft Looks. We'll be merry Fellows, We'll laugh our
Bellies full. We'll make much of our felves. We'll feaft
jovially. We'll play the Epkureavs. We'll fet a good Face
on't, and be boon Blades. Thefe are fine Phrafes of clown-
ifli Fellows that have a peculiar Way of fpeaking to them-
felves. Ch. Where are you going fo faft? Au. To my
Son's in Law. Ch. What do you do there? Why thither?
What do you with him ? Au. I hear there is Diilurbance
among them ; I am going to make them Friends again, to
bring them to an Agreement ; to make Peace among them.
Ch. You do very well, though I believe they don't want you ^
for they will make the Matter up better among themfelves,
yiu. Perhaps there is a Ceffation of Arms, and the Peace is
to be concluded at Night. But have you any thing elfe to
fay to me? Ch. I will fend my Boy to call you. Au. When
you pleafe. I ihall be at Home. Farewel, Ch. I wifh you
well. See that you be here by five a-Clock.
Soho Feter, call Aujiin to Supper, who you know pro-
inifed to come to Supper with me to Day. Fe. Soho ! Poet,
God blefs you. Supper has been ready this good while, and
my Mafter flays for you at Home, you may come when you
Will Au. I come this Minute.
F 3 rhi
[ 70]
Tbe Profane Feaji.
The Argument.
Our Erafmus mofi elegantly propofes all the Furniture of
this Feaft 5 the Difcourfes and Beh amour of the En-
tertainer and the Guefts^ &c. Water and a Bafon
before Dinner. The Snoics, the Epicurennsj the
Form of the Grace at 'Table. It is good Wine that
pleafes four Senfes. Why Bacchus is the Poets God;
why he is painted a Boy. Mutton very wholfome,
That a Man does not live by Bread and Wine only.
Sleep makes fome Perfons fat. Venifon is dear. Con-
cerning Deers^ Hares^ and Geefe : They of old de^
fended the Capitol at Rome. Of Cocks ^ Capons and
Fifjes. Here is difcourfed of hy the hy^ Fafiing. Of
the Choice of Meats. Some Perfons Super ft it ion in
that Matter. The Cruelty of thofe Perfons that re-
quire thefe Things of thofe Perfons they are hurtful
to 5 when the eating of Fifh is neither necefjary^ nor
commanded hy Chrifi. The eating of Fifh is condemn-
ed by Phyficians. The chief Luxury of old Time
conjifted in FifJoes. We fhould always live a fober
Life. What Number of Guefls there floould be at
an Entertainment. The Bill of Fare of the fecond
Courfe. The Magnificence of the French. The an-
cient Lam of Feafls. Either drink., or begone. A
Variation of Phrafes. Thankfgiving after Meat.
AUSTIN, CHRISTIAN, a Boy,
'' v4(7. O, my Chrifiian, God blefs you. It is very well that
•*^ you are come. I am glad you're come. I congratulate
my feif that you are com'e. I believe it has not ftruck five
yet. Bo. Yes, it is a good while pafl: five. It is not far from
fix. It is almoft fix. You'll hear it ftrike fix prefendy. Au.
It is no great matter whether I come before five or after five,
as long as I am not corqe after Supper j for that is a mife-
rable Thing, to come after a Feafl: is over. What's all
this great Preparation for ? What means all this Provifion ?
- ■ ■ What,
[71 ]
What, do you think Vm a Wolf? Do you take me for a
Wolf? Do you think I'm a Vulture. Ch. Noc a Vulture,
nor yet do I think you a Gralliopper, to live upon Dew.
Here is nothing of Extravagancy^, I always lov'd Neatnefs,
and abhor Slovenlinefs, I am for being neither luxurious
nor niggardly, [i] We had better leave than lack. If I
drefs'd but one Diih of Peas, and the Soot fliould chance to
fall in the Pot and fpoil it, what fhouldwe have to eatthen?
Nor does every Body love one Thing; therefore I love a
moderate Variety. J^u. An't you afraid of the fumptuary
Laws ? Cb. Nay, I moft commonly offend on the con-
trary Side. There is no need of the [2] Fannian Law at our
Houfe. The Slendernefs of my Income teaches me Frugality
fufficiently. Au. This is contrary to our Agreement. You
promifed me quite otherwife. Ch. Well, Mr. Fool, you
don't {land to your Agreement. For it was agreed upon
that you iliould bring nothing but merry Tales. But let us
have done with thefe Matters, and wafh, and fit down to
Supper. Soho, Boy, bring a little Water and a Bafon ; hang
a Towel over your Shoulder, pour out ft»me Water. What
do you loiter for? Wafh, Auftin. Au. Do you wafli firft.
Ch. Pray excufe me. I had rather eat my Supper with un-
wafhen Hands this twelve Months. Au. O ridiculous! 'Tis
not he that is the moft honourable, but he that is the dirt ieft
that fhould wafh firfl; then do you wafh as the dirtied. Ch.
You are too complaifant. You are more complaifant than
enough j than is fitting. But to what purpofe is all this
Ceremony? Let us leave thefe trifling Ceremonies to Wo-
men, they are quite kick'd out of the Court already, although
they came from thence at firft. Wafh three or four at a
Time. Don't let us fpend the Time in thefe Delays. I won't
place any Body , let every one take what Place he likes beft.
He that loves to fit by the Fire, will fit beft here. He that
can't bear the Light let him take this Corner. He that loves
to look about him, let him fit here. Come, here has been
Delays enough. Sit down. I am at home, I'll take my
Supper ftanding, or walking about, which I like beft. Why
don't you fit down. Supper will be fpoiled. Au. Now let
us enjoy our felves, and eat heartily. Now let us be Epicures.
We have nothing to do with Supercilioufneft. Farewell Care,
let all Ill-will and Detraction be banifhed. Let us be merry.
Ii] Apitius wae a luxurious Man, gave his Mind, as Seneca relates, to nor
thing but his Kitchen and Cookery.
£»] The fj«»w« Law was made againfl fumptuous FeaftSi
F4 pleafant.
[ 7i 3
pleafant, and facetious. Ch. Auflin, pray who are thofe
Stoics and Epicures? Au. The Stoics are a certain melan-
choly, rigid, parcimonious Se6t of Philofophers, who make
the SumT?2um honum of Mankind, to confift in a certain, I
can't tell what, honefium. The Epicures are the Reverfe of
thefe, and they make the Felicity of a Man to confift in
Pieafure. Ch. Pray what Seft are you of, a Stoic or an Epi-
cure? Au. I recommend Zeno's Rules- but I follow Epi^
curus's Pradlice. Ch. Aufiin, what you fpeak in Jeft, a great
many do in Earneft, and are only Philofophers by their
Cloaks and Beards. An. Nay, indeed they out-live the .^^yoff
in Luxury. Ch. Dromo, come hither. Do your Office, fay
Grace. Boy. " May he that feeds all things by his Bounty,
" com.mand his Bleffing upon what is or iTiall be fet upon
" this Table. Amen." Ch. Set the Visuals on the Table,
Why do we delay to eat up this Capon ? Why are we
afraid to carve this Cock, Au. I'll be Hercules, and flay this
Beaft. Which had you rather have, a Wing or a Leg? Ch.
Which you will, I don't matter which. Au. In this Sort of
Fowls the Wing is look'd upon the beftj in other Fowls
the Leg is commonly efteemed the greater dainty Bit. Ch. I put
you to a great deal of Trouble. You rake a great deal of
Trouble upon you, upon my Account. You help every Body
elfe, and eat nothing your felf I'll help you to this Wing;
but upon this Condition, that you fliall give me half of it
back. Au. Say you fo, that is i^rvingyour felf and not me;
keep it for your felf I am not fo bafhfal as to want any
Body to help me. Ch. You do very well, Au. Do you
carve for a Wolf? Have you invited a Vulture? Ch. You
faft. You don't eat. Au. I eat more than any Body. Ch.
Nay, rather, you lye more than any Body. Pray be as free
as if you were at your own Houfe. Au. I take my felf to be
there, I do fo. I am refolv'd fo to do. I defign to
do fo. Ch. How does this Wine pleafe you ? Does this
Wine pleafe your Palate? Au. Indeed it pleafes me very
well. Indeed it pleales mightily. It pleafes me well enough.
It pleafes me very well. Ch. Whiph had you rather havci
Red or White.
It is no Matter what Colour it is.
Au. Indeed I like both alike. It is no Matter what Co-
lour 'tis, {o the Tafte be pleafing. I don't much mind how
the Wine pleafes the Eye, fo it do but pleafe the Palate. I
an't much mov'd at the Sight of it, if the Taft'e be but grate-
ful. It is no great Matter what Colour it is of,^ or what Co-
lour
[ 7i 1
iour it has, if it does but tafte well. I don't defire to pleafe
my Eyes if I can but pleafe my Tafte. If it do but pleafe
the Palate , I don't regard the Colour, if it be well relifli'd.
Ch. I believe fo: But there are fome Perfons that are migh-
ty deeply read in Table Philofophy, who deny that the
Wine can be good, unlefs it pleafes four Senfes : The Eye^
with its Colour j the Nofe, wi:h its Smell , the Palate, with
its Tafte ; the Ears, by its Fame and Name. yiu. O ridiculous !
What fignifies Fame to Drink. Ch. As m.uch as many that
have a good Palate m.ightily approve of 'Lov'ian Wine, when
they believe it to be Bern Wine. Au. It may be, they had
fpoiled their Palate by much Drinking. Ch. No, before they
had drank one Drop. But I have a mind to hear your Opi-
nion, who are a Man of great Skill in thefe Matters. Au.
Our Countrymen prefer White before Red, becaufe the Red
is a little more upon the Acid, and theWhiteafmallerWine ;
but that is the milder, and in my Opinion the more whol-
fome. We have a pale red Wine, and a yellow Wine,
and a purple Colour Wine. This is new Wine, this Year's
Wine. This is tw® Years old. If any Body is for an old
Wine, we have fome four Years old, but it is grown
flat and dead with Age. The Strength is gone with Age.
Au. Why, you're as rich as L^^caZ/wi". Ch. Soho, Boy, where
are you a loitering ? You give us no Attendance ; don't you
fte we have no Wine here. What if a Fire fhould happen
now? How ihould we put it out? Give every one a full
Glafs. Aufiin, What's the matter that you are not merry ?
What miakes you fit fo Melancholy ? What's the Matrer
with you, that you an't chearful ? You are either troubled at
fomething, ©r you're making Verfes, You play the Crjjippus
now, you want a Melijfa to feed you. Au. What Story is
this you are telling me of? Ch. Cryjippus is reported to have
been fo intent upon his logical Subtilties, that he would have
been flarved at Table, unlefs his Maid Melijfa had put the
Meat into his Mouth. Au. He did not deferve to tiave his
Life fav'd ; but if Silence is an Offence to you, and you
love a noify Feaft, you have gotten that will make one. Ch.
I remember I have. That's very well minded : We muft
drink more freely, we ought to drink more largely, more
Wine and lefs Water.
lou ha've hit on the Matter.
Au, You have hit the Nail on the Head. You are in the
right. You have hit the Mark, For,
Foecunds
[ 74 ]
Fcecundi calkes quern non fecere difertum ?
Ch. That is very learnedly fpoken, Aufiin, and fo indeed
is all that comes from you ^ but fmce we are fallen into a Dif-
courfe concerning Wine, iince we have happen'd to make
mention of Wine j I have a mind to ask you, for whatRea-
fon the Ancients, who will have Bacchus the Inventor of
Wine, call him the God of the Poets ? What has that drun-
ken God to do with Poets, v;ho are the Votaries of the Virgin
Mufes ? Au. By Bacchus, this is a Queftion fit to be pur over
a Bottle. But I fee very well, what your Queftion drives at.
Ch. What, prithee ? Au. You very cunningly put a Q^.eflion
about Wine, by a French Trick, which I believe you iearn'd
at Faris, that you may fave your Wine by that Means. Ah,
go your Way, I fee you're a Sophifter; you have made a
good Proficiency in that School. Ch. Well, I take all your
Jokes ; I'll return the like lo you, when Opportunity fiiall of-
fer. But to the Matter in Hand. Au. I'll go on, but I'll
drink firft, for it is abfurd to difpute about a tippling Queftion
with a dry Throat. Here's to yonChrifiian. Half this Cup to
you. Ch. I thank you kindly. God blefs it to you, much good
may it do you. Au. Now I'm ready, at your Service. I'll do
it as well as I can after my Manner. That they have given a
Boy's Face io Bacchus, has this Myftery in it^ that Wine be-
ing drank, takes away Cares and Vexations from our Minds,
and adds a Sort of a Chearfulnefs to them. And for this
Reafon, it adds a Sort of Youthfulnefs even to old Men, in
that it makes ttiem more chearful, and of a better Complexi-
on. The fame thing Horace in many Places, and particularly
teftifies in thefe Vcrfes :
Ad mare cum veni, generojum e^ lene requiro,
^od curas abigat, quod cumffe divite manet.
Jn venas, arimumque meum, quod 'verba minifiret.
^uod me Lucana juiienem commendet arnica.
For that they have affign'd the Poets to this Deity, I believe
by it they defign'd to intimate this, that Wine both ftirs up
Wit and adminifters Eloquence ; which two Things are very
fit for Poets. Whence it comes to pafs, that your Water
Drinkers make poor Verfes. For Bacchus is of a fiery Con-
ftitution naturally, but he is made more temperate, being uni-
ted with the Nymphs. Have you been anfwer'd to your Sa-
tisfaction ? Ch. I never heard any Thing more to the Purpofe
from a Poet. You deferve to drink out of a Cup fet with
Jewels.
[75]
Jewels. Boy":, take away this Diili, and fet on another. Au.
You have got a very clovvnifh Boy. Ch. He is the unluckieft
Knave in the World. Au. Why don't you teach him better
Manners. Ch. He is too old to learn. It is a hard matter to
mend the Manners of an old Sinner. An old Dog won't be
eafily brought to wear the Collar. He's well enough for n\e.
Like Mafter like Man.
If I knew what you lik^d^ I would help you.
Au. I would cut you a Slice, if I knew what would pleafe
you. I would help yoU:, if I knew your Palate. I would help
you, if I knew what you lik'd beft. If I knew the Difpoficion
of your Palate, I would be your Carver. Indeed my Palate
i^ like my Judgment. Ch. You have a very nice Palate. No
Body has a nicer Palate than you have. I don't think you
come behind him of whofe exquifite Skill the Satyrift fays,
Oflrea callebat prima deprendere morfu,
Et femel afpe6ii dicebat littus echini.
Au. And you, my Chriflian, that I may return the Com-
pliment, feem to have been Stholar to Epicurus, or brought
up in the Catian School. For what's more delicate or nice
than your Palate.^ Ch. If I underftood Oratory fo well as I
do Cookery, I'd challenge Cicero himfelf. An. Indeed if I
muft be without one, I had rather want Oratory than Cook-
ery. Ch. I am entirely of your Mind, you judge gravely,
wifely, and truly. For what is the Prattle of Orators good for,
but to tickle idle Ears with a vain Pleafure.? But Cookery
feeds and repairs the Palate, the Belly, and the whole Man,
let him be as big as he will. Cicero fays, Cojicedat laurea lin-
gua j but both of them muft give place to Cookery. I never
very well liked thofe Stoicks, who referring all things to their
(I can't tell what) honejlum, thought we ought to have no re-
gard to our Perfons and our Palates. Ari/lippus was wifer than
Diogenes beyond Expreffion in my Opinion. Au. I defpife
the Stoicks with all their Fafts. But I praife and approve Epi-
curus more than that Cyclic Diogenes, who lived upon raw
Herbs and Water j and therefore I don't wonder that Alex-
ander, that fortunate King, had rather be Alexander than Dio-
genes, ch. Nor indeed would I myfelf, who am but an or-
dinary Man, change my Philofophy for Diogenes" s:^ and I be-
lieve your Catius would refufe to do it too. The Philofo-
phers of our Time are wifer, who are content to difpuce like
StoicSt but in living out-do even Epicurus himfelf. And yet
fcr all that, I look upon Philofophy to be one of the moft ex-
cellent
[ 7^ ]
cellent Things in Nature, if ufed moderately. I don't ap-
prove of philofophifing too much, for it is a very jejune, bar-
ren, and melancholy thing. When I fall into any Calamity
or Sicknefs, then I betake myfelf to Philofophy, as to a Phy-
fjcian ; but when I am well again, I bid it farcwel. Au. I like
your Method. You do philofophixe very well. Your hum-
ble Servant, Mr. Philofopher^ not of the Stoic School, but the
Kitchen. Ch. What is the matter with you, Erafmus, that
you are fj melancholy? What makes you look fo frowningly?
What makes you fo filent } Are you angry with me becaufe
I have entertained fou with fuch a flender Supper ? Er. Nay,
I am angry with you that you have put: your felf to fo much
Charge upon my Account. Aufiin laid a ftri£t Charge upon
you that you would provide nothing extraordinary upon his
Account. I believe you have a mind we fhould never come
to fee you again \ for they give fuch a Supper as this that in-
tended to make but one. What fort of Guefts did you ex-
pedt ? You feem to have provided not for Friends, but for
Princes. Do you think we are Gluttons ? This is not to en-
tertain one with a Supper, but vidlualling one for three Days
together, Ch. You will be ill humour'd. Difpute about that
Matter to-morrow; pray be good humour'd to-day. We'll
talk about the Charge to-moirow; I have no mind to hear
any thing but what is merry at this time. Ah. Cbriji'iajt, vv'he-
ther had you rather have. Beef or Mutton } Ch. I like Beef
beft, but I think Mutton is the moll: wholfome. It is the
Difpofition of Mankind to be moft defirous of thofe Things
that are the moil hurtful. Au. The French are wonderful
Admirers of Pork. Ch. The Fre7ich love that moft that colls
leaft. Au. I am a Jew in this one thing, there is nothing I
hite fo much as Swines Flefh. Ch. Nor without reafon, for
what is more unwholfome ? In this I am not of the French
Man's, but of the Jew's Mind. Er. But I love both Mutton
and Pork, but for a different reafon; for I eat freely of Mut-
ton, becaufe I love it ; but Hogs Flefh I don't touch, by rea-
fon of Love, that I may not give Offence. Ch. You are a
clever Man, Erafmus, and a very merry one too. Indeed I
am apt to admire from whence it comes to pafs that there is
fuch a great Diverfity in Mens Palates, for if I may make ufe
of this Verfe of Horace^
Tres mhi conviva prope dijjentire videntur,
Fofcentei 'uario viuitum diverfa palato.
Er. Although as the Comedian fays. So many Men, Jh
many Minds, and every Man has his own Way ; yet no
Body
[ 17 ]
Body can make me believe, there is more Variety in Mens
Difpoficions , than there is in their Palates: So that you can
•fcarce find two that love the fame Things. I have feen
a great many, that can't bear fo much as the Smell of
Butter and Cheefe : Some loath FieDi • on6 will not eat
roaft Meat, and another won't eat boil'd. There are many
that prefer Water before Wine. And more than this, which
you'll hardly believe ^ I have feen a Man who would nei-
ther eat Bread , nor drink Wine. Ch. What did that poor
Man live on? Er. There was nothing elfe but what he could
eat; Meat, Fifh, Herbs and Fruit. Ch, Would you have
me believe you ? Er. Yes, if you will. Ch. I will believe
youj but upon this Condition, that you fhall believe me
when I tell a Lye. Er. Well, I will do it, fo that you
lye modeftly. Ch. As if any Thing could be more im-
pudent than your Lye. Er. What would your Confidence
lay, it I fhould fhew you the Man ? Ch. He mufl: needs be
a ftarveling Fellow, a meer Shadow. Er. You'd fay he was
a Champion. Ch. Nay, rather a [i] Toljphe7??us. Er. Iwon-
-der this inould feem fo ftrange to you, when there are a
great many that eat dry'd Fifii inftead of Bread : And fome
that the Roots of Herbs fcrve for the fame Ufe that Bread
does us. Ch. L believe you; lye on. Er. I remember, I
faw a Man when I was in Italy, that grew fat with S'eep,
without the Affiftance either of Meat or Drink. Ch. Fie
for Shame; I can't forbear making Ufe of that ExprefiTion of
the Satyrift, Tunc immenfa cavi fpirant mendacia folks. Thcu
poeticifeft. You play the Part of a Poet. I am loath to
give you the Lye. Er. I am the greatefi: Lyar in the
World, if Vllny, an Author of undoubted Credit, has not
written, that a Bear in fourteen Days time will grow
wonderfully fat with nothing but Sleep : And that he wilflleep
fo found, that you can fcarce wake him, by wounding him •
Nay, to make you admire the more, I will add what Theo-
phrafius writes, that during that Time, if the Flelli of the
Bear be boil'd, and kept fome Tim.e, it will come to Life
again. Ch. I am afraid that ?arme7io in Terence will hardly be
able to comprehend thefe Things. J believe it readily J
would help you to fome Venifon, if I were well enough ac-
comphfhed. Er. Where have you any Hunting now? How
came you by Venifon.? Ch. Midas, the moft generous fpirited
Man living, and a very good Friend of mine, fent it me for a
Prefent; but fo, that I oftentimes buy it for lefs. Er How
. [i] P4:?*^««jisreprer«nted by tlie Poets, as the biggeft of the Giants.
fo.?
[78]
fo ? Ch. Becaufe I am obliged to give more re his Servants^
than I could buy it for in the Market. Er. Who obliges you
to that? Ch. The moft violent Tyrant in the World. Er.
Who is he ? Ch. Cuftom. Er. Indeed , that Tyrant does
frequently impofe the moft unjuft Laws upon Mankind.
Ch. The fame Tyrant hunted this Stag^ but the Day before
Yefterday. What did you do, who ufed to be a very great
Lover of that Sport? Au. Indeed I have left off that Sport,
and now I hunt after nothing but Learning. Ch. In my Opi-
nion, Learning is fleeter than any Stag. Au. But I hunt chiefly
with two Dogs, that is to fay, with Love and Induftry : For
Love affords a great deal of Eagernefs to learn, and as the
mofl: elegant Poet fays.
Lahor im^robus omnia, nj'tncit.
Ch. Auftin, you admonifh after a friendly Manner, as you
ufe to do J and therefore , I won't give over, nor reft, nor
tire, till I attain. Au. Venifon is now in the Prime. Plmy
tells us a very admirable Story concerning this Animal.
Ch What is it, I pray you? Au. That as often as they
prick up their Ears, they are very quick of Hearing; but
on the contrary, when they let them down, they are deaf.
Ch. That very often happens to my felf ; for if I happen
to hear a Word fpoken of receiving Guineas, there i^ no
Body quicker of Hearing than I ; for then with Fawphilus
in Tere-dce, I prick up my Ears ; but when there is any Men-
♦•ion made of paying them away , I let them down, and am
prefently hard of Hearing. Au. Well, I commend you;
you do as you fliould do. Ch. Would you have fome of
the Leg of this Hare ? Au. Take it your felf. Ch. Or had
you rather have fome of the Back? Au. This Creature has
nothing good but its Flank and hind Legs. Ch. Did you ever
fee a 'white Hare ? Au. Oftentimes. Fliny writes, that on
the Alps there are white Hares ; and that it is believed
in the Winter time they feed upon Snow: Whether it be
true or no, let P% fee to that : For if Snow makes a Hare's
Skin white, it muft make his Stomach white too. Ch. I
don't know but it may be true. Au. I ha^re fomething for
you that is ftranger than that ; but it may be you have heard
of it. The fame Man teftifies that there is the fame Nature
in all of them ; that is, of Males and Females, and that the
Females do as commonly breed without the Ufe of the Male,
as with it. And many Perfons affert the fame, and efpecially
your skilful Hunters. Ch. You fay right ; but if you pleafe,,
L79l
let us try thefe Rabbets, for they are fat and tender. I would
help that pretty Lady if I fat nigher to her. Aujiin, pray take
care of that Lady that fits by you, for you know how to,
pleafe the fair Sex. Au. I know what you mean, you
Joker. Ch. Do you love Goofe? Au. Ay, I love 'em
mightily, and I an't very nice. I don't know what's the
matter, but this Goofe don't pleafe me^ I never faw any
thing dryer in all my Life^ it is dryer than a Pumice-
Stone, or Furius's Mother-in-law, upon whom Catullus
breaks fo many Jefts, I believe it is made of Wood :
And in troth I believe 'tis an old Soldier, that has worn in
felf out with being upon the Guard. They fay a Goofe is
the moft wakeful Creature living. In truth, if I am not out
in my Guefs, this Goofe was one of them, who when the
Watch and their Dogs were faft afleep, in old Time defend-
ed the Roman Capitol. Ch. As I hope to live I believe itr
was, for I believe it liv'd in that Age. Au. And this Hen
was either half ftarv'd, or elfe was in love, or was jealous ;
for this Sort of Creatures are much troubled with that Di-
ftemper. This Capon fatten'd much better j fee what Cares
will do. If we were to geld our Theodoricus, he would grow
fat much the fooner. Th. I an't a Cock. Au. I confefs you
are not Gallus Cybelles, nor a Dunghil-Cockj but it may be
you are Gallus Gallaceus. Ch. What Word is that } Au. I
leave that Word to be unriddled by you : I am Sphinx, and
you fhall be Oedipus. Ch. Aujiin, tell me truly, have you
had no Converfation with French Men, have you had no Af-
finity with them } Had you nothing to do with them ?
Au. None at all, indeed. Ch. Then you are fo much the
worfe. Au. But perhaps I have had to do with French Wo-
men, Ch. Will you have any of this Goofe's Liver ? This
was look'd upon a great Delicacy by the Ancients. Au.
I will retufe nothing that comes from your Hand. Ch. You
muft not exped Roman Dainties. Au. What are they.? Ch.
Thiftles, Cockles, Tortoifes, Conger-Eels, Mufhrooms,
Truffles, &c. Au. I had rather have a Turnip than any of
them. You are liberal and bountiful, Chrifiian. Ch. No
Body touches thefe Partridges nor the Pigeons, to-morrow is
a Faft-day appointed by the Church ; prepare againft that
Hunger j Ballaft your Ship againft the impending Storm.
War is a coming, furnifh your Belly with Provifion. Au.
I wifh you had kept that Word in, we lliould have rifen
from Supper more merrily. You torment us before the
Time. Ch. Why fo } ■ Au. Becaufe I hate Fi(h worfe than
I do a Snake. Ch. You are not alone. Au. Who brought
in this troublefome Cuftom ? Ch, Who order'd you to take
Aloes,
[ 8o3
Aloesj. Wormwood and Scammony in Phyfick ? Au. Bat
thefe Things are given to Folks thac are Tick. Ch. So thefd
Things are given to them that are too well. It is better
fometimes to be Tick, than to be too well. Au. In my Opi-
nion the jeijjs. themfelves did not labour under fuch a Bur-
den. Indeed I could eafily refrain from Eels and Swines
Flefh, if I might fill my Belly with Capons and Partridges.-
Ch. In a great many Circumftances it is not the Thing, but
the Mind that diftinguiOies us from Je'vjs -, they held their
Hands from certain Meats, as from unclean Things, than
would pollute tlie Mind • but we, underftandlng that to the
Ture, all Things are pure, yet take away Food from the
wanton Flefli, as we do Hay from a pamper'd Horfe, that
it may be more ready to hearken to the Spirit. We fome-
times chaftife the immoderate Ufe of pleafant Things, by the
Pain of Abftinence, Au. I hear you ; but by the fame Ar-
gument, Circumcifion of the Flefh may be defended j for
that moderates the Itch of Coition, and brings Pain. If all
hated Fifh as bad as I do, I would fcarce put a Parricide td
fb much Torture. Ch. Some Palates are better pleas'ci
with Fifh than Flefh. Au. Then they like thofe Things that
pleafe their Gluttony, but don't make for their Health. Ch,
I have heard of fome of the ^fops and Apitius's, that have
look'd upon Fifh as the greatefl D^icacy. Au. How then
do Dainties agree with Punifliment ? Every Body han'c
Lampreys, Scares, and Sturgeons. Au. Then it is only
the poor Folks that are tormented, with whom it is bad
enough, if they were permitted to eat Flefh ; and it often ,
happens, that when they may eat Flefli for the Church, they
can't for their Purfe. Ch. Indeed, a very hard Injunction !
Au. And if the Prohibition of Flefli be turned to delicious
Living to the Rich ; and if the Poor can't eat Flefh many
times, when otherwife they might, nor can't eat Fifh, be-
caufe they are commonly the dearer j to whom does the
Injundtion do good } Ch. To all j for poor Folks may eat
Cockles or Frogs, or may gnaw upon Onions or Leeks.
The middle Sort of People will make fome Abatement in
their ufual Provifion ; and though the Rich do make it
an Occafion of living delicioufly, they ought to impute that
to their Gluttony, and not blame the Confl:itution of the
Church. Au. You have faid very well ; but for all that, to
require Abftinence from Flefh of poor Folks, who feed their
Families by the Sweat of their Brows, and live a great way
from Lakes, is the fame thing as to command a Famine,
or rather a Bulimia. And if we believe Homer, it is the
miferableft Death in the World to be ftarv'd to death.
Ch.
[ 8i ]
Ch. So it feem'd to blind Homer; but with Chrlflia?:!, be is
not miferabje that dies well. ^//. Let that be fo j yet it: is a
very hard thing to require any Body to die. Cb. .The Popes
don't prohibit the eating of FleOa with that DefigHj to kill
Men, but that they ''may bp nnoderatcly axHided if they have
tranfgrefs'd ; or that tailing away their pleafant Food, their
Bodies may be lefs fierce againft the Spirit. Au. The mo-
derate Ufe of Fiefn would elTed that. Ch. Bat in fb great a
Variety oF Bodies certain Bounds of Fiedi can't be prelcrib'di
a Kind of Food may. Au. There are Fillies that yield much
Aliment, and there are Sorts of Fiefii that yield but little. Ch.
But in general Flefh is mofl nourii"hing. Au. Pray tell me,
if you were to go a Journey any whither, would you chufe a
lively Horfe that was a Utde wanton, or a difeafed Horie,
who would often flu mble and throw his Rider .? Ch. What do
you mean by that.? Au. Becaufe Fidi-eating, by its corrupt
Humours, renders the Body liable to a great many Difcafes.
that it can't fabferve the Spirit as it lliould do, Ch. To wha:
Difeafes ? Aii. Gouts, Fevers, Leprofies, the King's-Evil.
Ch. How do you knovv.? Au. I believe Phyficians. I had
rather do fo than try the Experiment. Au. Perhaps than
happens to a few. Au. Indeed I believe to a great many;
befides, in as much as the Mind adts by the material Organs
of the Body, which are aflfeded with good or bad Humours,
the Inftruraents being vitiated, it can't exert its Power as it
would. Ch. I know Dodtors do very much find fault wiih
the eating of Fillij but our Anceilors thought ctherwife, and
it is our Duty to obey them. Ati. It was a Piece of Reli-
gion formerly not to break the Sabbath j but for all that, ic
was more eligible to fave a Man on the Sabbath-day. Ch.
Every one confults his own Health. A^u. If we v^ill obey
St. Vaul, Ij^t no Body mmd his own Things, but every one the
Thwgs of ariother. Ch. How come we by this new Divine
at our Table? Whence comes this new upibrt Mailer of
ours } Au. Becaufe I don't like Fifnes. Ch. What, then
won't you abftain from Flefh ? Au. I do abftain, but grum-
blingly, and to my great Detriment too. Cb. Charity fuffers
all Things. Au. It is true \ bur then the fame requires but
litde. If it fuffers all Things, why won't it fufFer us to eac
thofe Meats the Gofpel has given us a Liberty to eat.? Why
do thofe Perfons, from whom Chrill has fo often required
the Love of himfelf, fuffer fo many Bodies of Men to be en-
danger'd by capital Difeafes, and their Souls to be in danger
of eternal Damnation, becaufe of a Thing neither forbidden
by Chri^, nor necelTary in itfelf? Ch. VVhen Neccffity re-
quires it, the Force of a human Confticution ceafes/and the
G W^i'd
[8a]
Will of the Lawgiver ceafes. Au. Bur the Offence of the
Weak does not ceafe. The Scruple of a tender Confcience
does not ceafe. And laftly, it is uncertain with what Limits
that Neceffity fhall be bounded ; ihali it be when the Fifli-
eater fhall be a giving up the Ghoft ? Ir is too late to give
Flefh to a Man when he is dying j or Ihall it be when his
Body becomes all feverifh ? The Choice of Meats is not of
fo much confequence. Ch. What would you have prefcrib'd
then ? Au. I can tell well enough, if I might be allow'd to
be a Didator in Ecclefiaflical Affairs. Ch. What do you
mean by that ? Au. If I were Pope I would exhort all Per-
fons to a perpetual Sobriety of Life, but efpecially before an
Holy-day^ and moreover, I would give every one leave to
eat what he would, for the Health of his Body, fo he did it
moderately, and with Thankfgiving^ and I would endeavour
that what was abated of thefe Obfervations lliould be made
up in the Study of true Piety. Ch. That in my Opinion is
of fo great weight, that v/e ought to make you Pope. Au.
For all your laughing, this Neck could bear a triple Crown.
Ch. But in the mean time take care that thefe Things be not
enter'd down in the Sorboji at Varis. Au. Nay, rather let
what is faid be written in Wine, as it is fit thofe Things fhould
that are faid over our Cups j but we have had Divinity enough
for a Feaft. We are at Supper, not at the Sorbon. Ch. Why
mayn't that be call'd [i] Sorhon where we fup plentifully?
Au. Well, let us fup then, and not difpute, left the Sorhon be
called after us from Sorhis, and not from Sorbendo,
CHRISTIAN, GUESrs, MIDJSy
ERASMUS, theBOT, AUSTIN.
Ch. Well, come my kind Guefts, I pray you that you
would take this little Supper in good part, though it be but
a {lender one. Be merry and good humour'd, though the
Supper be but mean and flender. I, relying upon your Fa-
miliarity, made bold to invite you j and I will afTure you,
your Company and Prefence is not only very grateful to
me, but very pleafant. Gu. We do affure you, good Chrifiian,
that we efteem your Supper to have been very pretty and
noble, and we have nothing to find fault with, but that you
£i] A College of Divines in Pans,
make
[ 83 ]
make Excufes for ir, for that it was very magnificent; for
indeed I look upon the EnLertainri;eni' to be fpiendid ro the
greateft degree, that in the firft place confifted of Courfes
agreeable to Nature, snd was feafbn'd with Mirth, Laughter,
Jokes and Wltricifms, none of which have been wanting in
our Entertainment. But here is fomerhing comes into my
Mind, as to the Number of the Guefts, which Farro writes,
Jbould riot be fewer than Three , nor more than Nine. For the
Graces, who are the Prefidents of Humanity and Benevo-
lence, are Three; and the Mufes, that are the Guides of com-
mendable Srudies, are Nine ; and 1 lee here we have ten Guefls
befides the Virgins. Au. Nohing could happen more agree-
ably ; we are in that ibme;hing wifer than Farro, for we have
gotten here three pretty Maids for the three Graces -^ and as ic
is not to be thought that Apollo is ever abfeiU from the Cho-
rus of the Mufes, we have very much apro!>cs added the tench
Gueft. Ch. You have fpoken very much like a Poet. If I
had a Laurel here I would crov/n you with it, and you fliould
be Poet Laureat. ^4//. IF I were crown'd vvi:n Mallows, I
lliould be Poet Malent -^ I do not arrogate that Honour to
inyfelf This is an Honour that I don'c defcrve.
' Haud eqtiidem tali me dignor honore. .
Ch. Will you, every one of you, do as much for me as I
will do for you } Gu. Ay, that we will with all our Hearts.
Ch. Then let every one drink off his Cup round as I do.
Here's to you firft Midas. Mi. I thank you heartily. I pledge
you heartily ; for which the Vulgar fays Prajlolor. Indeed I
won't refufe. 1 won't refufe any thing for your Sake. Cb.
Now do you drink to the reft. Mi. Erafmus, half this Cup
to you. Er. I pray it may do you good. May it do you
good. Much good may it do you. Trfciat is an out of the
way Word. Ch. Why does the Cup ftand ftiU? Why does
it not go about? Is our Wine gone? Where are your Eyes,
you Rafcal ? Run quickly, fetch two Quarts of the fame Wine.
Boy. Erafinus, your humble Servant, there is one wants to
fpeak with you at the Door. Er. Who is it? Boy. He fays
he is one Mr. Mare's Man, his Mafter is com.e out of Britain,
and he delires you would m:ke him a Vifir, becaufe he fets
out for Germany to-morrow by break of Day. Er. Chriflian,
gather the Reckoning, for [ rnuft be goinj. Ch. The Rec-
koning, moft learned Erapnus, of this Supner, I will difcharge
that You have no need to put your Hand in your Pocket.
I thank you that you h^nour'd me with your Company ; but
I am forry you are called away before the Comedy ii ended.
G 2 £r.
[ 84]
Er. Have I any thing more to do but to b'd you farewcl
ana be merry ? Ch. Fareweh we can'c take it amifsj bscaafe
you dont leave a Shoulder of Mutton for a Sheep's-head,
but go from Friends to a better Friend. Er. And I in like
iTianner return you my Thanks, that you have been fo kind
as to invite me to this moft pleafant Entertainment. My very
good Friends, fare ye \A;ell. Drink heartily, and live mer-
rily. Ch. Soho, Dromo. You, all of you, have fitten itill a
good while. Does any Body pleafe to have any thing elfe?
Gu. Nothing at alJ. We have eat very plentifully. Ch. Then
take away thefe Thingr, and let on the Defert. Change the
Trenchers and the Plates. Take up my Knife that is fallen
down. Pour fome Wine over the Pears. Here are fome
eaily ripe Mulberries that grew in my own Garden. Gu.
They uill be the better for being of your own Growth. Ch.
Here are fome wheaten Plumbs: See, here are Damafcens,
a rare Sight with us : See, here are mellow Apples ; and here
is a new Sort of an Apple, the Stock of v;hich I fet with
my own Hands j and Cheftnuts, and all Kinds of Delicacies,
which our Gardens produce plentifully. Au. But here are no
Flowers. They are French Entertainments, who love that
Sort of Splendor moft that cofl:s leaft^ but that is not my
Humour. . Ch. But hark you, Ai/fiin, do you think to come
ofF fo ? W hat, won't you pledge me when I drink to you ?
You ought to have taken off half the Cup of him that drank
to you. Au. He excufed me for that a great Vv'hile ago. He
difcharg'd me of that Obligation. Ch. Pray who gave him
that Power ? The Pope himfelf can hardly difpenfe with this
Obligation. You know the ancient Law of Drinking, Either
drhik or go your ivay. Au. He that an Oath is made to has
Pov-'er to fufpead it, and efpecially he, whofe Concern it was
to have it kept. Ch. Bat it is the Duty of all Gueib to ob-
ferve Laws inviolably. Au. Well, come on, fince this is the
German Cuftom, I'll drink v»?hat is left. But what Bufinefs
have you with me ? Ch. You muft pay for all. Why do you
look pale ? Don't be afraid, you may do it very eafily, do
as you have often done, that by fome Elegancy we may rife
from Table more learned j nor are you ignorant that the An-
cients over the fecond Courfe ufed to difpute of fome more
diverting Subjeds. Come on then, by what, and after how
many ways may this Sentence be vary'd, Indi^num auditu ?
1/
[8i]
It is not zvorth hearing.
Au. You have very fitly made ufe of the latrer Supine.
It is not v/orch hearino:. It is unworthy to be beard. It is
not worthy to be heard. It is unworthy to be heani. It is
fo light it ought not to be heard. It is frarce v/orth whi'e
to relate. It is not of fuch Value as to be heard. It is too
filiy to be heard. It is not worth while to tell it. Ch. How
many ways may this Sentence be turn'd. Magna mihi conjiat ?
1'he Ratio of 'varying this Sentence.
Magno mihi con fat.
. ! Au. By thefe Words , impendo, infumo, iwpertlo, conflat.
I have taken Pains much in reaching you. I have taken
mucii Pains in that Matter. I have not ipent lefs Money
than I have Care upon that Matter. I have not fpcnt a lit-
tle Money, but much Time, and very much Labour, and
fome Study. I have fpent much Study. 71iis Thirtg has coil
me many a Night's Sleep, much Swear, much Endeavour,
very much Labour, a great Expence, a great deal of Money.
It has coft ma m.ore than you believe, My Wife Ijtands ma
in lefs than my Florfe. Cb. But what is the meaning, Aufih;,
that you put Ibmetimes an Ablative, and fometimes a Geni-
tive Cafe to the Verb confiat ? Au. You have dated a very
ufeful and very copious Q^icftion. But that I may not ba
troublefome to the Company by my too mjuch Talic, I will
difpatch it in a few Vv'ords. But I defire to hear every Man's
Opinion, that I may not be troublefome to any Man, as I
have faid, Ch. But why may not the Damfcls defire the
fame ? Au. Indeed they do nothing elfe but hear, I'll at-
tempt it with Gra?mnatlcas AlFiftance. " Yoa know thac
" Verbs of buying and felling, and fome others, are of a like
" Signiiic:ition, to which thefe Genitives are- put alone, with-
" out SubPcantives, ta?:ti, quantl, flurh, vunorUy ta7itide77i,
" quantivis , quantkuvquc : But in cafe Subftantives be not
^? added, Vv'hich, if they happen to be put, they are both
"■ turned into the Ablative Cafe ; fo that if a certain Price be
^' fet dov/n, you put it in the Ablative Cafe^ if by an Ad-
G 3 " jcdivc
" jedive put fubHantively, you put it in the Ablative Cafe,
" unlefs you had rather make ufe of an Adverb. Ch. What
*■'■ arc thofe Verbs that. you fpeak of? Au. They are com-
*' n'jon'.y emo> mercor-^ rrdimo, fchat is, a Thing either taken
*' or loft) 've-ado, 'vetiu?ido j revendo, (that is, I fell again that
*' v-ln'oh was fold to me) 'veneo, (that is, I am fold) whofe
*' PriLccr Tenfe is venivij or vcjiii, the Supine i<enum j hence
" comes venalis\ and from that, /. e. vendo, comes -vendihilis ;
*' mereo, for infer njio & fiipejidium facio, i. e. to ferve under
" (as a Soldier.) Compare, that is, to buy, or commit. Com~
*' puto, I change, I exchange wirb. Cmibire is wholly bar-
*' barous in this Senfe. jEfiimo, to tax. hidko, for I efti-
'• mate, rate. Lueor, Ikerh j Ucitor, licit aris, to cheapen, to
*' bid, Beftrahor, i. e. I am carried about to be fold. Me-
" tior, for f eflimare or rate. Confiat, for it is bought. Con-
*' dticere, to let to hue. Fce?iero, I put to Intereft. Fceneror,
'' I take at Interefl (to Ufury.) Pacifcor, fa£fus fum, pangOt
'J peprgi, i e. I make a Baigain." Ch. Give an Example.
Of felling and huying.
■ ^he Forms.
Au. How much do you lett that Field for by the Year ?
We will anfwer. For Twenty French Pounds. ( Frank. )
W hoo ! You lett it too dear. Nay, I have lett it for more
before now. But I would not give fo m.uch for it. If you
hire it for lefs I'll be hang'd. Nay, your Neighbour Chre-
mes ofFer'd me a Field, and asks for it. How much.? Jufl
as much as you ask for yours. But it is much better.
That's a Lye. I do as they ufe to do who cheapen a
Thing. Do you keep it yourfelf at that Price. What, do
you cheapen, ask the Price, when you won't buy any
Thing? Whatfoever you fliall lett it me for fliali be paid
you very honellly.
pf
[87]
Of felling and hiiytng.
Another Example.
How much do you fell that Conger Eel for ? Syra. For
five Pence. That's too much, you nally Jade. Nay, 'tis too
little, no Body will fell you for lefs. Upon my Life it coft
me as much within a Trifle. You Witch, you tell a Lie,
that you may fell it for twice or three times as much as it
coft you. Ay, I'll fell it for a hundred times as much if I
can, but I can't find fuch Fools. What if I fliould a^k the
Price of yourfelf.? What do you value yourfelf at? Accord-
ing as I like the Peribn. What do you prize your felf at ?
VVhat Price do you fet upon your felf } Tell me, what Price
do you rate yourfelf at ? What Price do you put upon your-
felf? Ten Shillings. Whoo, fo much? O ftrange ! Do you
value me at lefs? Time was when I have had as much for
one Night. I believe you may, but I believe you an't now
worth fo much as a Filh by a great deal. Go hang yourfelf,
you Pimp. I value you as litde as you do me. He that
fhall give a Farthing for you buys you too dear. But I'll be
fold for more, or I won't be fold at all. If you would be fold
at a great Rate you muft get you a Mask, for thofe Wrinkles
in your Forehead v/on't let you be fold for much. He that
won't give fo much for me fhan't have me. I would not give
a Straw for you. I coil more.
j1 third Example.
T have been at an Audion to-day. Say you fo? I bid
Money for a Share in the Cuftoms. But how much ? Ten
Thoufmd Pound. Whoo ! what, fo much ? There v»^ere
thofe that bid a great deal more ; very few that offer'd lefs.
Well, and who had the Place at lafc ? Chremes, your Wife's
great Friend. But guefs what it was fold for. Ten. Nay,
fifteen. O good God 1 I would not give half fo much for
him and all his Family together. But he would give twice
as much for your Wife. " Do you take notice, that in all
" thefe, wherefoever there is a Subftantive of the Price, that
" is put in the Ablative Cafe ^ but that the reft are either put
" in the Genitive Cafe, or are changed into Adverbs, You
. *J_ have never heard a Comparative without a Subftantive,
G 4 « except
[ 88 3
" except in thefe two^, Vlnris, and NinQri^. There are fome
" other Verbs, of U'hich wc have fpoken, that: are not very
'■'■ nnuch unlike thcfe, Jian, facio, habeo, unco, afiimo, pendo,
" which fignify Cin a manner) the fame thing; likewife j^s,
" and they are for the mofb part join'd with thefe Genitives,
*■' V2uht, magrA-^ f^rv:, pluris, ■plurmi-^ minoris, rninhm, maxi-
" V7i\ tar.ti, quantr^ flocci, piliy nih'di, iiauc'i, hujus, and any
" other like them." Ch. Give Examples,
Of 'valuing. "The Form.
Au. Do you know how much I have always valu'd you ?
You will always be made of fuch Account by Men as
you make Account of Virtue. Gold is valued at a great
Rate now a-days. Learning is valued at a very li:tle, or juft
nothing at all. I value Gold lefs than you think for. I don't
value your Threats of a Rufh. I make a very little Ac-
count of your Promifes. I don't value you of a Hair. If
Wifdom v/ere but valued at fo great a Rate as Money, no
Body would want Gold. With us. Gold without Wifdora
h cfteem'd to be of more Worth than Vv''ifdom wi'hout
Gold. I efleem you at a greater Rate, bccaufe you are
learned. You v/ili be the lefs efteem'd on here becaufe you
don't know how to lye. Here are a great many that will
perfuade you that Black is Vv'hite. I fet the greater Value
upon you becaufe you love Learning. So much as you
have, fo much you fliall be efteem'd by all Men ; fo much
as you have, fo much you fhall be accounted of every where.
It is no matter what you are accounted, but what you are.
I value my Chriflian above any Man elfe in the World.
"■ There are ibme other Verbs found v;ith thefe Genitives
*' and Ablatives, which in their own natureT don't fignify
" buying, or any thing like it." Peter bought a Kifs of the
Maid for a Shilling. Much good may it do him. I would
not kifs at that rate. Flow m.uch do you play for.^ What did
you pay for Supper.^ W^e read of fome that have fpent Six
hundred Sefbcrces for a Supper. But the Freiich often fup for
a Half-penny. What Price does Faufus teach for ? A very
fmall Matter. But for m>ore than Deiius. For how much
then? For nineteen Guineas. I won't learn to lye at fo dear
a Rate. Th^dra in Terence loft both his Subftauce and him-
felf. But I would not love at that rate. Some Perfons pay
a great Price for fleeping. De7n0fiher.es had more for holding
his Tongue than others had for fpeaking. I pray you to
take
[8P]
take it in good Part. " There is another Sort of Verbs>
*' that require an accufative Cafe, with a Genizive or Ab-
"■ lative;, which are, acctifo, i. e. I obje6t a Crime, or culpa ;
" alfo one that's abfentj Inciifo , i. e. I blame without
" Jadgment'j arguo, I reprehend, infimuhy i. e. I throw in a
" Sufpicion of a Fault. Fo(iulo, i. e. I require you to an-
" fvver at Law accerfo, I impeach, damno, I condemn, I
pronounce him to be in Fault. Aamoneo, I admonifli. Co. For
Example Sake.
Forms of Accufmg.
Au. Scipio is accufed of courting the Populace. Thou
who art the moft impudent, accufeit me of Impudence. Le~
fidfs is accufed of Bribery. You are accus'd of a capital
Crime. If you Ihall flily infmuate a Man to be guiky of
Covetoufnefs, you fliall hear that which is worfe again. Put
him in Mind of his former Fortune. Men are put in Mind
of their Condition, by that very Word. Put L,epUus in
Mind of his Promife. " There are many that admit of a
" double Accuiative Cafe. I teach thee Letters. He entreats
" you to pardon him. I will unteach thee thol^e Man-
" ners.''
" Flere I mufl: put you in Mind of that Matter, that in
" thefe the PaiTives alfo obtain a fecond Accufative Cafe.
*' The others will have a Genitive." You are taught better
by me. They accufe me of Theft. I am accufed of
Theft, Thou accufeft me of Sacrilege. I am accufed of
Sacrilege. I knov; you arc not fatisfied yet. I know you
are not fatisfied' in Mind. For when v;ill fo great a Glut-
ton of Elegancies be fatisfy'd? But I muft have Regard to
the Company, v^ho are not all equally diverted with thefe
Matters. After Supper, as we walk, we v^'ill finifh what
is behind, unlefs you fhall rather chufe to have it omitted. Ch.
Let it be as you fay. Let us return Thanks to divine Bounty
and afterwards we'll take a little Walk. Mi. You fay very
well, for nothing can be more pleafanr, wholfome than
this Evening Air. Ck. Peter, come hither, and lokc the
Things away in Order, one after the other, and fill the Glal-
fes with Wine. Fe. Do you bid me return Thanks.' Ch.
Aye, do. Fe. Had you rather it fliould be done in Greeks
or in Latin. Ch. Both Ways. In both. Fs. " We thank
" thee, heavenly Father, v;ho by thy unfpeakable Power, haft
*J_ created all Things, and by thy inexhauftible Wifdom go-
2 " verneft
C 5>o ] . i
*' verneft all Things, and by thy inexhaufiible Goodnels feed-
" eft and nouriilieft all Things : Grant to thy Children, that
" they may in due Time drink with thee in thy Kingdom,
" that NeSiar fi] of Immortality ; which thou haft promis'd
" and prepar'd for thofe that truly love thee, through Jefus
*' Chriil:, ^?nefi. Cb. Say in Greek too, that the reft mayn't
" underftand what thou fayeft "
Ch. My moft welcome Guefts, I give you Thanks that you
have honour'd my little Entertainment with your Company, I j
intreat you to accept it kindly. ,Gu. And we would not only i
have, but return our Thanks to you. Don't let us be over
ceremonious in thanking, but rather let us rife from Table, '^
and walk out a little, ^u. Let us take thefe Virgins along with
us, fo our Walk will be more pleafant. Ch. You propofe
very well. We'll not want Flowers, if the Place we walk in
don't afford any. Flad you rather take a turn in our Garden,
in a poetical Manner, or walk out abroad by the River-fide.
^u. Indeed, your Gardens are very pleafant, but keep that
Pleafure for Morning Walks. When the Sun is towards fetcing.
Rivers afford wonderful pleafant Profpedts. Ch. uiufiin, do
you walk foremoft as a Poet fliould do, and I'll walk by your
Side. Au. O good God, what a jolly Company we have,
what a Retinue have I ! Chrifi'tan, I can't utter the Pleafure I
take, I feem to be fome Nobleman. Ch. Now be as good
as your Word. Perform the Task you have taken upon you.
Au. What is it you'd have me fpeak of chiefly.? Ck. I us'd
formerly to admire many Things in Po/Iio^i Orations j but chief-
ly this, that he us'd fo eafily, fo frequently and beautifully to
turn a Sentence, which feemed not only a great Piece of Wit,
but of great Ufe. Au, You were much in the right on't,
Chr'tflian, to admire that in Pollio. For he feems, in this Mat-
ter, to have had a certain divine Faculty, which 1 believe, was
peculiar to him, by a certain Dexterity of Art, and by much
ufe of Speaking, Reading and Writing, rather than by any
Rules or Inftru&ions. Ch. But I would fain have fome Rule
for it, if there be any to be given. Au. You Ay very well;
and lince I fee you are very defirous of it, I'll endeavour it
as much as I can : And I will give thofe Rules, as well as I
can, which I have taken Notice of in Pollio's Orations. Ch.
Do, I lliould be very glad to hear 'em. Au. 1 am ready to
do it.
[i] NeSiar, as the Poets feign, is the Drink of the Gods.
' The
[^' ]
The Argument.
A Jhort Rule concerning, this Copia, it teaches how to
'vary a Sentence pkafantly^ copioujly^ <^^fih-i frequent'
ly^ and elegantly -, by Jhort Rules glven^ and by a>
^ Praxis upon thefe Rules^ in an elegant 'Turning of one
S Phrafe.
I, tN the firfli'Place, it is to be let forth in pure and choice
JL Latin Words j which to do is no mean Piece of Art:
For there are a great many, who do;, I don't know after
what Manner, afFed the Copia and Variation of Phrafe, when
they don't know how to exprefs it once right. It is not enough
for them to have babbled once, but they muft render the
Babble much more babbling, by firft one, and then by ano-
ther turning of it j as if they were refolv'd to try the Expe-
riment, how barbaroufly they were able to fpeak : And there-
fore, they heap together, certain fimple fynonymous Words,
that are fo contrary one to the other, that they may admire
themfelves how they do agree together. For what is more
abfurd, than that a ragged old Fellow, that has not a Coat to
his Back, but what is fo ragged that he may be afliamed to
put it on, iliould every now and then change his Rags, as
though he defign'd to fhew his Beggary by Way of Oftenta-
tion: And thole Affedtators of Variety feem equally ridiculous,
who, when they have fpoken barbaroufly once, repeat the
fame Thing much more barbaroufly j and then over and over
again much more unlearnedly. This is not to abound with
Sentences, but Solaecifms : Therefore, in the firft Place, as I
have faid, the Thing is to be exprefs'd in apt and chofen
Words. 2. And then we muft ufe Variety of Words, if
there are any to be found, that will exprefs the fame Thing;
and there are a great many. 3 . And where proper Words are
wanting, then we muft ufe borrow'd Words, fo the way of
borrowing them be modeft. 4. Where there is a Scarcity of
Words, you muft have Recourfe to Paflives, to exprefs what
you have faid by Adives; which will afford as many Ways'
of Variation, as there were in the Adtives. 5. And after that,
if you pleafe, you may turn them again by verbal Nouns and
Participles. 6. And laft of all, when we have chang'd Ad-
verbs into Nouns, and Nouns fometimes into one Part of
Speech^
[ ^^ ]
Speech, and fometimcs into another; then vye may fpeak by
contraries. 7. We may eichcr change affirmative Sentences
into negative, or the, contrary. 8. Or, atleailr, what we have
fpoken indicatively, we may fpeak interrogatively. Now for
Exaaipk Sake, let us take this Sentence.
Liters tu£ magnoperc me deWdrunt.
Tour Letters have delighted me very very ??2uch.
Litcra.
Epiflle, little Epiftles, Writings, Sheets, Letters.
Mas^nopere.
^ After a wonderful Manner, wonderfully, in a greater, or
great A/Ianner, in a wonderful Manner, above Me'afure, very
much, not indifferently ( not a httlc ) mightily, higlily, very
greatly.
Me.
«
My Miad, my Breaft, my Eyes, my Heart, Chrl^ian.
Dele&aru72t.
They have affeded, recreated , exhilerated with Plea^jre,
have been a Pleafure, have delighted, have bath'd me with
Pleafure j have been very fweet, very pleafant, c^r.
Now you have Matter, it is your Bufinefs to put k toge-
ther: Let us try. Ch. Thy Letters have very greatly deliL^iit-
ed me. Thy Epiftle has wonderfully chear'd me. ^u. Turn
the Active into a Pailive, then it will look with another
Face. As, It can't be faid how much I have been chear'd
by thy Writings.
I
SSS.l
Alfohy other Verbs effedfing the fame 'Thing.
I have received an incredible Pleafure from thy Writings.
I have receiv'd very much Pleafure from your Highnefs's
Letter.
[ 93 ]
Letter. Your Wririn.?;s have brou'.':!it me not an indifferent
Joy. Your V/ririns^s have overwhelmed me all over with Joy.
" But here you car.'c rum thefe into Paffives, only in the lait,
« perfufus gaudio, as is commonly faid, Pleafure was taken by
" rac;, Joy was brought, is not (b commonly ufed, or you
" muil not ulc fb frequently."
By Ajjlao.
Thy Letter hath affected me with a fingular Pleafure.
Chang? it into a FaJJive.
I am affedtcd with an incredible Pleafure by thy Letter.
Thy little Epii'Ue has brought not a litrie Joy.
By Sum and Nouns AdjeEiives.
Thy Letters have been moffc pleafant to me many Ways.
ThatEpiftleoF thine V\'as, indeed, as acceptable, as any Thing
in the World.
By Noum Suhjlantives,
Thy Letter was to us an unfpeakable Pleafure. Your Let-
ter V7as an incredible Pleafure to us.
Change it into a Negative]
Thy Letter was no fmall Joy. Nothing in Life could
happen more delightful than thy Letters. " Although I have
*' fometimes already made ufe of this Way, which is not to
" be pafs'd over negligently. For when we would ufe fr.uL
" tuv2, pliirimuTTi} to ri,2;niFy, fingulariter, we do it by a con-
" trary Verb." As, Henry loves you mightily : He loves
you with no common Love. Wine pleafes me very much: •
It pleafes me not a little. He is a Man of a fingular Wit :
A Man of no ordinary Wit. He is a Man of admirable
Learning : He is a Man not of contemptible Learning.
Thojnas [i] was born in the higheft Place of his Family : Not
in the ioweft Place. Anfiin was a molt eloquent Man :
[i] Thomas Aquinas, a Monk of the Order of St. Domitikk, who livM in
the 13th Centuiy, and v/rots a Book aW d Summa : He was called the yf/vje'-
i'fk Doftcr.
He
[h1
He was not ineloquenr. Cameades the Orator was noble :
Not an ignoble, not an obfcurf! Man. " And the like,
" which are very frequently ufed." But the Mention of a
Thing fo plain is enough : Nor are you ignorant, that we
make ufc of a two-fold Manner of vSpeech, of this Kind :
For Modefty Sake, efpecially, if we fpeak of our felves^ alfo
for Amplification Sake. For we ule rightly and elegantly, not
ungrateful, for very grateful j not vulgarly for fingularly.
1. For Modefty Sake. I have by my Letters gain'd fome
Reputation of Learning. I have always made it my Bufi-
nefs not to have the laft Place in the Glory of Learning.
2. The Examples of Amplification are mention'd before :
Now let us return to our own. Nothing ever fell out tome
more gratefully, accept.ibly, than thy Letter. Nothing ever
was a greater Pleafure than your Letter. I never took fo
much Pleafure in any Thing, as in thy moft loving Letters.
" After this Manner all the before- mention'd Sentences may
*' be vary'd by an Interrogation. What in Life could be more
pleafant than thy Letters? What has happened to me more
fweet, than thy Letter.? What has ever delighted me like your
laft Letter? And after this manner you may vary aln^oft
any Sentence.
Cb. What fliall we do now ? Au. We will now turn the
whole Sentence a little more at large, that we may exprefs
one Sentence , by a Circumlocution of many Words. Ch.
Give Examples. Au. " That which was fometimes exprefs'd -
" by the Noun incredibile , and then again, by the Adverb
*' increMiliter, we will change the Sentence in fome Words."
I can't exprefs how much I was delighted with your Letters.
It is very hard for me to write, and you to believe how
much Pleafure your Letter was to me. I am wholly unable
to exprefs how I rejoic'd at your Letter. " And fo ad infi-
« niium: Again, after another Manner. For hirherco we
*' have varied the Sentences by Negations and Interrogations,
« and in the laft Place by Infinitives. Now we will vary
" by Subftantives or Conditionals, after this manner. Let
me die if any Thing ever was more defired and more plea- \
fant than thy Letters. Let me perifh if any Thing ever was |
more defired, and more pleafant than thy Letter. As God '
fhall judge me, nothing in my whole Life ever happen'd
more pleafant than thy Letters. " And alfo a great many
«■' more you may contrive after this Manner." Ch. What is
to be done now. Au. Now we muft proceed to Tranfla-
tionsj Similitudes and Examples.
There
[ 9S ]
Tijere is a Tranjlation in thefe.
I have received your Letters, which were fweet as Honey,
Your Writings feem to be nothing but meer Delight. Your
Letters are a meer Pleafure; and a great many of the Uke
Kinds. " But Care is to be taken not to make ufe of harder
*' Tranflations j fuch as this that follows,
yupiter hybernas cana mve confpuit Alpes.
" fuch as this is." The Suppers of thy Writings have refreflied
me with moll delicious Banquets.
A Comparifon by Simile.
Thy Writings have been f.veeter than either Amhrojia [i]
or Ne^ar. Thy Letters have been fweeter to me than any
Honey. Your kind Letter has excell'd even Liquorifh, Lo-
cufts, and Aitic Iloney, Sugar; nay, even the NeBar and
Ambrofia of the Gods. " And here, whatfoever is ennobled
" with Sweetnefs, may be brought into the Comparifon."
From Examples.
I will never be induc'd to believe, that Hero receiv'd the
Letters of her Leajider, either with greater Pleafure, or more
Kifles, than I received yours. I can fcarce believe that
Scipio, for the Overthrow of Carthage, or Vaulus JEmylius ,
for the taking of Fcrfeus, ever triumphed more magnificendy
than I did, when the Poft-man gave me your moil charm-
ing Letter. " There are a thoufand Things of this Nature,
** that may be found in Poets and Hiftorians. Likewife Si-
" militudes are borrow'd from Natural Philofophy j the Na-
" ture of a great many of which, it is neceflary to keep in
" Memory. Now if you pleafe, we will try in another
" Sentence.'*
£i] Amhrojia, according to the Poets, is the Meat of the Gods.
I mil
/ ivlll never forget you ':vhile I live.
' I will always remember you, as long as I live. Forgetful-
nefs of you, lliali never feize me as long as I live. 1 will
leave off to live, before I will to remember you.
By CGMparJfoT'.s,
If the Body can (get rid of) its Shadow, then this IVJind
of mine may forget you. The River Lethe it felf iliall ne-
ver be able to walli away your Memory.
" Befides, by an Impoiribility, or afier the manner of Poets
« by ( contraries. )
Diim juga mo-dtts aper> fluvios diim pjfcis amah'it.
A7ite leves ergo, &C.
" which is no hard matter to invent." But left I fliould
feem tedious, at the prefent let thefe fuffice: At another
Time, if you pleafe, we will talk more copioufly of this
Matter, -Cb. I thought, Aufiin, you had been quite exhauft-
ed by this Time. But thou haft Ihevv'n me a new Trealbre
beyond what I expected, which if you fhall purfue, I perceive
you'll fooner want Time than Words. Au. If I can perform
this with my little Learning, and indifferent Genius, what do
you think Cicero himfelf could do, who is ftoried to have
vy'd with 'Rofcius the Player } But the Sun is going to leave
us J and the Dew rifes j it is beft to imitate the Birds, to go
home, and hide our felves in Bed. Therefore, fweec Chri-
fiian, farewell till to Morrov/. Ch. Fare you well likewife,
moft learned Au[iin.
'ithe Religious Treat,
The Argument.
S^is religious Treat teaches what ought\ to he the Table-
Talk of Chriftians. The Nature of Things is not dumb,
hut liery loquacious, affording Matter of Contemplation.
The
l97 1
The Defcription of a neat Garden^ where there is d
P'ariety of Difcourfe concerning Herbs. Of Marjo-
ram^ Celandine^ PVolfs-Bane^ Hellebore. Of Beafls^
Scorpions^ the Channeleon^ the Bafdisk j of Sows^
Indian Jnts^ Dolphins^ and of the Gardens of Al-
cinous. 'fables were ejieemed f acred by the very
Heathens themfelves. Of wafJjing Hands before
Meat. A Grace before Meat out of Chryfoftom.
Age is to be honoured^ and for what Reafon. The
Reading of the Scriptures 'very ufeful at Meals. That
Lay Perfons may Difcourfe concerning the Scriptures.
The lift of P\'ov, and ift Ver. illuftrated. How God
hates Sacrifices^ in Comparijon of Mercy, Hof. 6.
No Body is hurt but by himjclf. That Perfons in
Wine fpeak true. That it was unlawful for the
^Egyptian Priefls to drink Wine. The i Cor. 6.
opened. All Tfhings are lawful for me. The Spirit
of Chrif was in the Heathens and Poets. Scotus is
flighted in Comparifbn of Cicero and Plutarch. A
Place is cited out of Cicero and Cato Major, and
commended; dare omni petcnti, give t) every one
that asketh, how it is to be under flood. We ought
to give to Chrifi Poor, end not to Monafleries. The
Cujiom of burying in Churches blatn'd. Thai we
ought to give by Choice, how much^ to whom^ and
to what E?id. We ought to deny ourfelves of fome-
thing that we may give it to the Poor. No Body
can ferve two Mailers, is explained. A Grace after
Meat out of St. Chryfoftom.
^USEBlUS.flMO-tHT.THEOPHILUSi
CHRTSOGLOrruS, ARANIUS.
ppu. I admire that any Body can delight to live in fmoaky
*'-' Citiesj when every Thing is To frefh and pieaianr in the
Country. TL Ail are not pleafed vi/ith the Sight of Floweis>
fpringing Meadows, Fountains, or Rivers: Or/ if they do>
take a Pleaiure in 'em, there is fomething elfe, in v/hlch they
take more. For 'ris with Pleafure, as it is with Wedges, one
drives out anothen Eu. You fpeak perhaps of Ufurcrs, or
covetous Traders^ which, indeed, are all one. Ti. I do
fpeak of them J bat not of them only, I aflurc youj but.
[pS]
of a thoufand other Sorts of People, even to the very Prieils
and Monks, who for the Sake of Gain, make Choice of the
moll: populous Ciries for their Habitation, not following the
Opinion of Flato or Pythagoras in this Practice ; but rather
that of a certain blind Beggar, who loved to be where he was
crowded i becaufe, as he faid, the more People, the more
Profit. Eu. Prithee let's leave the blind Beggar and his Gain:
We are Philolbphers. Tt. So was Socrates a Philofopher,
and yet he preferr'd a Town Life before a Country one ^
becaufe, he being defirous of Knowledge, had there the Op-
portunity of improving it. In the Country, 'tis true, there
are Woods, Gardens, Fountains and Brooks, that entertain
the Sight, but they are all mute, and therefore teach a Man
nothing. I know Socrates puts the Cafe of a Man's walking
alone in the Fields ; although, in my Opinion, there Nature
is not dumb, but talkative enough, and fpeaks to the Inflrudi-
on of a Man that has but a good Will, and a Capacity to
learn. What does the beautiful Face of the Spring do, but
proclaim the equal Wifdom and Goodnefs of the Creator?
And how many excellent Things did Socrates in his Retire-
ment, both teach his [i3 Thadrus, and learn from him.?
Tt. If a Man could have fuch pleafant Company, I confefs,
no life in the World could be pleafanter than a Country Lite.
Bu. Have you a mind to make tryal of it.? If you have,
come take a Dinner with me to Morrow : I have a pretty
neat little Country Houfe, a little way out of Town. Ti.
We are too many of us ; we fhall eat you out of Houfe and
Home. Eu. Never fear that, you're to expedl only a Gar-
den Treat, of fuch Chear as I need not go to Market for.
The Wine is of my own Growth ^ the Pompions, the Me-
lons, the Figs, the Pears, the Apples and Nuts, are offered
to you by the Trees themfelvesj you need but gape, and
they'll fall into your Mouth, as it is in the fortunate Jjlands,
if we may give Credit to Lucia?^ Or, it may be, we may
get a Pullet out of the Hen-rooft, or fo. Ti. Upon thefe
Terms we'll be your Guefts. Eu. And let every Man bring
his Friend along with him, and then, as you now are four,
vte fhall be the juft Number of the Mufes. Ti. A Match.
Eu. And take Notice, that I fhall only find Meat, you are
to bring your own Sauce. Ti. What Sauce do you mean.
Pepper, or Sugar? Eu. No, no, fomething that's cheaper,
but more favoury. Ti. What's that ? Eu. A good Stomach.
[ij Pbadrus vfras the Difcipleof Flato, and for whom he wrote a Book,
and called it Pbadrus, in which Socrata is fuppos'd to converfe with Pbadrus,
A lighc
L99l
A light Supper to Night, and a little Walk to morrow Morn-
ing, and that you may thank my Country Houfe for. But
■ at what Hour do you pleafe to dine at ? Ti, At ten a ClocJc.
Before it grows too hot. Eu. I'll give Order accordingly.
Serv. Sir, the Gendemen are come. Eu. You are welcome.
Gentlemen, that you are come according to your Words j
but you're twice as welcome for coming fo early, and bring-
ing the beft of Company along with you. There are fome
Perfbns who are guilty of an unmannerly Civility, in making
their Hoft wait for them. Ti. We came the earlier, that we
might have Time enough to view all the Curiofities of your
Palace j for we have heard that it is fo admirably contrived
every where, as that it fpeaks who's the Mailer of i:. Eu.
And you will fee a Palace worthy of fuch a Prince, This
litde Neft is to me more than a Court, and if he may be
faid to reign, that lives at Liberty according to his Mind, I
reign here. But I think it will be beft, while the Wench in
the Kitchen provides us a Salad, and it is the cool of the
Morning, to take a Walk to fee the Gardens. Ti. Have
you any other befide this ? For truly this is a wonderful neac
One, and with a pleafmg- Afpedt falutes a Man at his entring
in, and bids him welcome. Eu. Let every Man gather a
Nofegay, that may put by any worfe Scent he may meet
with within Doors. Every one likes not the fame Scent j
therefore let every one take what he likes. Don't be fparing,
for this Place lies in a Manner common j I never fliut it up
but a-Nights. Ti. St. Peter keeps the Gates, I perceive.
Eu. I like this Porter better than the Mercuries, Centaurs,
and other fidtitious Monfters, that fome paint upon their
Doors. Ti. And 'tis more fuirable to a Chriftian too. Eu.
Nor is ray Porter dumb, for he fpeaks to you in three Lan-
guages. Ti. What does he fay } En. Read it your felf.
Ti. It is too far off for my Eyes. Eu. Here's a Reading-
Glafs, that will make you another Lynceus. Ti. I fee the
Latin, Si 'vis ad vttam ingredi, fefva ma?idata. Mat. xix. 1 7.
If thou wilt enter into Life, keep the Commandments. Eu.
Now read the Greek. Ti. I fee the Greek, but I don't well
know what to make on'tj I'll refer that to Theophilus, who's
never without Gvpek in his Mouth. Th. M{jai'ofi<:^7i y l^rf ft~
4«<7s rifafg&'r' Tii Tf«Tfti, Repejit and be converted, Adts iii. 19.
Ch. I'll take the Hebre'w upon my felf, H^H^ in51QN3 P'«1i:f
uind the jufi (ball live by Eaithfulnefs. Does he feem to be
an unmannerly Porter, who at firft daili bids us turn from
our Iniquities, and apply our felves to Godlinefs j and then
tells us, that Salvation comes not from the Works of the
Law, but from the Faith of the Gofpel^ and laft of all, that
H a the
[ 100 ]
the Way to eternal Life, is by the Obfervance of evangelical
Precepts. 57. And fee the Chapel there on the Righr-hand
that he direds us to^ it is a very fine one. Upon the Altar
there's Jejus Chrifi lookinc^ up to Heaven, and pointing with
his Right-hand towards God the Father, and the holy Spirit ^
and with his Left, he feems to court and invite all Comers.
Kii. Nor is he mure: You fee the 2L^/?w j Ego fum via, 'Veri-
tas, e^ vita-^ I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. '£^«?
e7fA' T° ci^K^A 70) t3 uyiyeb- In Hebrew, ">^ 15?QI[7 CZ3U2 1D^
d33T 2 ^ 'j^ r^^liT' nxl^ Come, ye Childrejz, hearken unto me ;
I loill teach you the fear of the Liord. Ti. Truly the Lord fe-
fus falutes us with a good Omen. But that we may not feem
uncivil, it is m.eet that we pay back an Acknowledgment,
and pray, that fince we can d,o nothing of ourfelves, he would
vouchfafe of his infinite Gcodnefs, to keep us from ever
ftraying out of the Path of Life ; but that we cafting away
yeavijb Ceremonies, and the Delufions of the World, he
would guide us by the Truth of the Gofpel to everlafting
Life, drawing us of himfelf to himfelf Ti. It is mod rea-
fonable that we fliould pray, and the Place invites us to
it. Bu, The Pleafantnefs of the Garden draws a great
many Perfons to it ^ and 'tis a rare Thing that any paffes by
Jcfjs without an Ejaculation. I have made him Keeper, not
only of my Garden, but of all my Poffeffions, and of both
Body and Mind, inftead of filthy Priapus. Here is, you fee,
a little Fountain pleafantly bubbling with wholfome Waters,
this in fome Meafure reprefents that only Fountain of Life,
that by its divine Streams refrefhes all that are weary and
heavy laden j which the Soul, tired with the Evils of this
World, pants after, jufi: as the Hart in the Pfalmift does af-
ter the Water Brooks, having rafted of the Flefli of Serpents:
From this Fountain, whoever thirfts, may drink gratis.
Some make it a Matter of Religion to fprinkle themfelves
with it, and others for the Sake of Religion, and not of
Thirft, drink of it. You are loth, I perceive, to leave this
Place: But it is Time to go to fee this little fquare Garden
that is wall'd in, 'tis a neater one than the other. What is
to be feen within Doors, you fhall fee after Dinner, when
'the Heat of the Sun keeps us at Home for fome Hours
like Snails. Ti. Blefs me ! What a delightful Profped is
here. Eu. All this Place was defigned for a Pleafure Gar-
den, but for honeft Pleafure; for the Entertainment of
the Sight, the recreating the Noftrils, and relrelliing the Mindj
nothing grows here but fweet Herbs, nor every Sort of them,
but only choice ones, and every Kind has its Bed by it
felf.
[ 'o> ]
felf. TV. I am now convinced that Plants are not mute with
you. Eu. You are in the right ; orhers have magnificent
Houfes, but mine is made for Converfacion, (o that I can
never be alone in it, and fo you'll fay, when you have feen
it all. As the fcveral Plants ar* as it were form'd into fe-
veral Troops, fo every Troop has its Standard to it felf,
with a peculiar Morro, as this Marjoram's is, Abfline, fus, von
t'lbi fpiro : Keep oif. Sow/ I a'on'f breathe my Perfup^e for thee j
for though it be of a very fragrant Scent, yet Sows have a
natural Averfion to it : And fo every Sort has its Title, de-
noting the peculiar Virtue of the Plant. Ti. I have feen no-
thing yet more delightful than this litde Fountain, which being
in the midft of them, does as it were fmile upon all the
Plants, and promifes them Refrefhment againft the fcorch-
ing Heat of the Sun. But this little Channel vi'hich fhcws the
Water to the Eye fo advantageoufly, and divides the Garden
every where at fuch equal Diflances, that it fhews all the
Flowers over on both Sides again, as in a Looking-glafs,
is it made of Marble ? Eu. Marble, quoth thee, how fhould
Marble come hither.? It is a counterfeit Marble, made of a
fort of Loam, and a whitifh Colour given it in the Gla-
fing. Ti. But where does this delicious Rivulet difcharge
itfelf at lafl? Eu. Juil as it is with human Obligations,
when we have ferved our own Turns : After this has plea-
fared our Eyes, it waOies our Kitchen, and palTes through
the Sink into the Common-fliore. Ti. That's very hard-
hearted, as I am a Chriftian. Eu. It had been hard-hearted,
if the divine Bounty of Providence had not appointed it for
this Ufe. We are then hard-hearted, when we pollute the
Fountain of divine Truth, that is much more pleafant than
this, and was given us for the reireflring and purc:;ing our
Minds from our Lufts and vicious Appetites, abufing the
unfpeakable Bounty of God : For we make no bad Ufe of the
Water, if we put it to the feveral Ufes for which he appoint-
ed it, who fupplies every Thing abundantly for human Ufe.
75. You fay right : But how comes it about, that all your ar-
tificial Hedges are green too.? Eu. Becaufe I would have
every Thing green here. Some are for a Mixture of Red,
becaufe that fets off Green: But I like this beft, as every
Man has his Fancy, though it be but in a Garden. Ti. The
Garden is very fine of itlelf; but methinks thefe three Walks:
take off very much from the Lightfomnefs and Pleafantnefs of
it. Eu. Here I either ftudy or walk alone, or talk with a
Friend, or eat, as the Humour takes me. Ti. Thofe fpeckled,
wonderful, pretty party-coloured Pillars, that at equal Di.-
ftances fupport that Edifice, are they A'^arble ? Eu. Of the
[ 10^ ]
^me Marble that this Channel is made of. Tt. In truth, i
pretty Cheat. I lliould have fworn they had been Marble.
Eu. For this Reafon then, take Care that you neither believe,
nor fwear any thing rafhly : You fee how a Man may be
miftaken. What I want ii^ Wealth, I fupply by Invention.
Ti. Could you not be content with fo neat, and well furniili-
ed a Garden in Subllance, without other Gardens in Pidlure
befides. Eu. In the firft Place, one Garden will not hold
all Sorts of Plants ; and in the fecond, 'tis a double Pleafure,
to fee a painted Flower vie with the Life j and in one we
contemplate the Artifice of Nature, in the other the Skill
of the Painter j and in both, the Goodnefs of God, who
gives all Things for our Ufe, in every Thing equally admi-
rable and amiable : And in the laft Place, a Garden is not
always green j nor the Flowers always frcfh ^ but this Garden
is freili and green all the Winter. Ti. But it is not fragrant.
Eu. But then on the other Hand it wants no drefling. 77.
It only delights the Eye. Eu. But then it does that always. Tt.
Pidlures themfelves grow old. Att. They do fo ; but yet
they out-live us ^ and bcfides, whereas we are the worfe for
Age, they are the better for it. Ti. That's too true, if it
could be otherwife. Au. In this Walk that looks toward the
Weft, I take the benefit of the Morning Sun ^ in that which
looks toward the Eaft, I take the Cool of the Evening ; in
that which looks toward the Soitth, but lies open to the
North, I take Saniftuary againft the Heats of the Meridian
Sun ; but We'll walk 'em over, if youpleafe, and take a nearer
View of them : See how green 'tis under Foot, and you
have the Beauty of painted Flowers in the very Chequers
of the Pavement. This Wood, that you fee painted up-
on this Wall, aflPords me a great Variety of Profpedt : For in
the firft Place, as many Trees as you fee, fo many Sorts of
Trees you fee j and all exprels'd to the Life. As many Birds
as you fee, fo many Kinds you fee; efpecially if there be
any fcarce Ones, and remarkable upon any Account. For
as for Gttk, Hens, and Ducks, it is not worth while to
draw them. Underneath are four-footed Creatures, or fuch
Birds as live upon the Ground, after the Manner of Quadru-
pedes. Ti. The Variety indeed is wonderful, and every
Thing is in Adtion, either doing or faying fomething.
There's an Owl fits peeping through the Leaves, what fays
fhe ? Eu. She fpeaks Greek ; flie fays, ^utpfovH, i cmcnv
"fntviiJUy fhe commands us to ad advifedly ; I do not fly ta
all:, becaufe an inconfiderate Rafhnefs does not fall out hap-
pily to all Perfcns. There is an Eagle quarrying upon a
Hare,
[ 103 ]
Hare, and a Beetle interceding to no purpofe ; there is a
Wren ftands by the Beetle, and fhe is a mortal Enemy to
the Eagle. Tt. 'What has this Swallow got in her Mouth ?
Eu. The Herb Celandine, ( don't you know the Plant ? )
with it, ilie reftores Sight to her blind young Ones. 37. What
odd Sort of Lizard is this.? Eu. It is not a Lizard, but a
Chamxleon. Ti. Is this the Chameleon, there is fo much
talk of? I thought it had been a Beaft twice as big as a
Lion, and the Name is twice as long too. Eu. This Cha-
meleon is always gaping, and always hungry. This is a wild
Fig-tree, and that is his Averfion. He is otherwife harmlefs ;
and yet the little gaping Creature has Poifon in him too, that
you mayn't contemn him. Ti. But I don't fee him change
his Colour. Eu. True ; becaufe he does not change his
Place j when he changes his Place, you will fee him change
his Colour too. Tt. What's the Meaning of that Piper ?
Eu. Don't you fee a Camel there dancing hard by .? Ti. I
fee a very pleafant Fancy ^ the Ape pipes, and the Camel
dances : But it would require at leaft three Days to run thorough
the Particulars one by one ; it will be enough at prefent to
take a curfory View of them. You have in the firft Spot,
all forts of famous Plants painted to the Life : • And to in-
creafe the Wonder, here are the ftrongell Poifons in the
World, which you may not only look upon, but handle too
without danger. Ti. Look ye, here is a Scorpion, an Ani-
mal very feldom feen in this Country j but very frequent in
Italy, and very mifchievous too : But the Colour in the Pi-
(Slure feems not to be natural. Eu. Why fo ? Ti. It feems
too pale methinks ; for thofe in Italy are blacker. Eu. Don't
you know the Herb it has fallen upon ? 77. Not very
well. Eu. That's no wonder, for it does not grow in thefe
Parts : It is Wolf's- bane, fo deadly a Poifon, that upon the
very touch of it, a Scorpion is ftupified, grows pale, and
yields himfelf overcome j but when he is hurt with one Poi-
fon, he feeks his Remedy with another. Do you fee the
two Sorts of Hellebore hard by ^ if the Scorpion can but get
himfelf clear of the Wolf's- bane, and get to the white Hel-
lebore, he recovers his former Vigour, by the very Touch of
a different Poifon. Ti. Then the Scorpion is undone, for
he is never like to get ofiF from the Wolf's-bane. 75. But
do Scorpions fpeak here } Eu. Yes, they do, and fpeak Greek
too. Ti.. What does he fay? Eu. E-^ps ^io<; -r dhir^'ov,
God hath found out the Guilty. Here befides the Grafs, you
fee all Sorts of Serpents. Here is the Bafilisk, that is not
only formidable for his Poifon ^ but the very Flafh of his
Eyes is alfo mortal. Ti. And he fays fomething too. Eu,
H 4 Yes,
[ 104 ]
Yes, he fays, OJerhit, dum metuant -^ Let them hate me, fo
tlosy fear me. Ti. Spoken like a King encirely. Eu. Like
a Tyrant rather, not at all like a King. Here a Lizard
fights with a Viper, and here lies the Dipfas Serpent up-
on the Catch, hid under the Shell of an Efiridge Egg.
Here you fee the whole Policy of the Ant, which we are
call'd upon to imitate by Solomon and Virgil. Here are In-
d'lan Ants that carry Gold, and hoard it up. Ti. O good
God ! how is it poffible for a Man to be weary of this
Entertainment. Eu. And yet at fome other Time you fhall
fee, I'll give you your Belly full of it. Eu. Now look be-
fore you at a Diftance, there is a third Wall, where you
have Lakes, Rivers, and Seas, and all forts of rare Fiflies,
This is the River Nz/^?, in which you fee the Dolphin, that
natural Friend to Mankind, fighting with a Crocodile, Man's
'deadly Enemy. Upon the Banks and Shores you fee feve-
ral amphibious Creatures^ as Crabs, Seals, Beavers. Here
is a Polypus, a Catcher catch'd" by an Oyfter. Fi. What
does he fay , atpm a.l§i^{xat ; The Taker taken, Ti. ThS
Painter has made the Wacer wonderfully tranfparent. Eu.
If he had not done fo, we fhould have wanted other Eyes.
.E«. Juft by there's another Polypus playing upon the Face
of the Sea like a little Cock-boat j and there you fee a
Torpedo lying along upon the Sands, both of a Colour,
you may touch them here with your Hand without any
Danger. But v.'c muft go to fomething elfe, for thefe
Things feed the Eve, but not the Belly. Ti. Have you any
more to be feen then ? Eu. You fliall fee what the Back-
fide affords us by and by. Here's an indifferent large
Garden parted : The one a Kitchen Garden, that is my
Wife's and the Family's ; the other is a Phyfick Garden, con-
taining the choiceft phyfical Herbs. At the left Hand
there is an open Meadow, that is only a green Plot enclos'd
with a Quick-fet Hedge. There fometimes I take the
Air, and divert my felf with good Company. Upon the
right Hand there's an Orchard , where , when you have
Leifljre, you fhall fee a great Variety of foreign Trees,
that I have brought by Degrees to endure this Climate.
77. O wonderful ! the King himfelf has not fuch a Seat.
Eu. At the End of the upper Walk there's an Aviary, which
I'll fliew you after Dinner, and there you'll fee vari-
ous Forms, and hear various Tongue?, and their Humours
are as various. Among fome of them there is an Agree-
ablenefs and mutual Love, and among others an irrecon-
cilable A^verfion : And then they arc fo tame and fami-
liar, that when I'm at Supper, they'll come flying in at
■ , -• • the
[ 105 ]
the Window to me, even to the Table, and take the Meat
out of my Hands. If at any Time I am upon the Draw-
Bridge you fee there, talking, perhaps with a Friend, they'll
feme of them fit hearkening, orhers of them will perch
upon my Shoulders or Arms, without any fort or" Fear,
for they tind that no Body hurts them. At the further end of
the Orchard I have my Bees, which is a Sight worth feeing.
But I mull not fhew you any more now, that I may have
fomething to entertain you with by and by. I'll fhew you
the reft after Dinner. Ser. Sir, my Miftrefs and Maid fay
that che Dinner will be fpoi!'d. Fu. Bid her have a little Pa-
tience, and we'll come prefently. My Friends, let us vvafli3 that
we may come to the Table with clean Hands as well as Hearts,
d^c. The very Pagans ps'd a kind of Reverence in this Cafe j
how much more then fhould Chrifliar.s do it^ if it were but m
Imitation of that facred Solemnity of our Saviour with
his Difciples at his laft Supper: And thence comes the
Cuftom of wafhing of Hands, that if any Thing of Ha-
tred, lll-'will, or any Pollution fhould remain in the Mind
of any one, he might purge it out, before he fits down
at the Table. For it is my Opinion, that the Food is the
wholefomcr for the Body, if taken with a purified Mind.
27. We believe that it is a certain Truth, Eu Chrifi himfelf
gave us this Example, that we fhould fit down to the Table
with a Hymn j and I take it from this, that we frequently read
in the Evangelifts, that he blefs'd or gave Thanks to his Fa-
ther before he broke Bread, and that he concluded with
.giving of Thanks : And if you pleafe, I'll fay you a Grace
u^,Sc. Chrjfofiom commends to the Skies in one of his Ho-
milies, which he himfelf interpreted. Ti. We defire you
would. Eu. Blefled be thou, O God, who hafl fed me
from mi y Youth up, and providefl Food for all Flefiv. Fill
thou our Hearts with Joy and Gladnefs, that partaking plen-
tifully of thy Bounty, we may abound to every good Work,
through Chrifi jefus our Lord, with whom, to thee and the
Holy Ghoft, be Glory, Honour, and Power, World with-
out End. Amen.
Eu. Now fit down, and let every Man take his Friend
next him; The firft Place is yours, Timothy, in right of your.
Grey Hairs. Ti. The only Xhing in the World that gives
a Tide to it. Eu. We can only judge of what we fee, and
muft leave the reft to God. Sophronim, keep you clofe to
your Principal Theophilui and Eulalius, do you take the
right Side of the Table ; Chryfoglottus and TheodidaSius they
liiall have the left. Euranius and Nephalius muft make a
Shifc with vvha: is left. I'll keep this Corner. 75. This
muft
[ ,0(? ]
tnuft not be, rhe Mafter of the Hcufe ought to take the firfl
Place. Eu. The Houfe is as much yours as mine. Gen-
tlemen j however, if I may rule within my own Jurifdidli-
on, Pii lit where I pleafe, and I have made ray Choice al-
ready. Now may thrift, the Enlivener of all, and without
whom nothing can be pleafant, vouchfafe to be with us, and
exhilerare our Minds by his Prefence. Ti. I hope he will be
pleafed {o to do ; but where fhall he fir, for the Places are
all taken up? Eu. I would have him in every JVIorfel and
Drop that we eat and drink ; but efpecially, in our Minds.
And the better to fit us for the Reception of fo divine a Gueft,
if you will, you fhall have fome Portion of Scripture read
in the Interim ^ but fo that you fnall not let that hinder
you from eating your Dinner heartily, Ti. We will eat
heartily, and attend diligently. Eu. This Entertainment
pleafes me fo much the better, becaufe it diverts vain and
frivolous Difcourfe, and affords Matter of profitable Con-
verfation: I am not of their Mind, who think no En-
tertainment diverting, that does not abound with foolilh
wanton Stories, and bawdy Songs. There is pure Joy fprings
from a clear and pure Confcience ; and thofe are the happy
Converfations, where fuch Things are mentioned, that we
can refledt upon afterwards with Satisfadion and Delight i
and not fuch as we fhall afterwards be afham'd of, and have
occafion to repent of. Ti. It were well if we were all as
careful to confider thofe Things as we are fure they are
true. Eu. And befides, thefe Things have not only a cer-
tain and valuable Profit in them, but one Month's ufe of
them, would make them become pleafant too. Ti. And
therefore it is the beft Courfe v;e can take to accuftom our
lelves to that which is beft. Eu. Read us fomething. Boy,
and fpeak ©ut diftindly. Boy. Prov. xxi. The Kin^l Heart
is in the Hand of the Lord., as the Rivers of Waters, heturneth
it li^ hither fo ever he will: Every Man is right in his own
Eyes, but the Lord ponder eth the Hearts. To do Jufiice and,
Judgvient, is more acceptable to the Lord than Sacrifee, ver. i, 2, 3 .
Eu. Hold there, that's enough j for it is better to takedown
a liule with an Appetite, than to devour more than a Man
can digeft. Ti. 'Tis better, I muft confefs, in more Cafes
than this: Pliny would have one never have Tulfy's Offices
out of ones Hand ; and in my Opinion , it were well if
all Perfons, but efpecially Statefmcn, had him every Word
by Heart : And as for this little Book of Proverbs , I have
always look'd upon it the beft Manual we can carry about
with us. Eu. I knew our Dinner would be unfavoury ,
and therefore I procured this Sauce. Ti. Here is nothing but
what
[ 107 ]
what is very good j but if you had given us this Lecture to
a Dii"h of Beets only, without either Pepper, Wine or Vine-
gar, it would have been a delicious Treat. Eu. I could
commend it with a better Grace, if I did but perfedly un-
dcrftand what I have heard. And I would we had fome able
Divine among us, that did not only underftand it, but
would thorougly expound it. But I don't know how far it
may be lawful for us Laymen to defcant upon thefe Matters.
Ti. Indeed, I fee no hurt in't, even for a Tar^anulm to do it,
abating the Raihnefs of paffing Sentence in the Cafe. And
who knows but that Chrifi himfelf (who has promis'd to be
prcfent, where two or three are gathered together in his
Name) may vouchfafe his Affiftance to us, that are a much
larger Congregation. Eu. What if we fhould take thefe three
Verfes, and divide 'em among us nineGuefts.? Eu. We like
it well, provided the Mafter of the Feaft lead the Way.
Eu. I would not refufe it j but that I am afraid I (lull enter-
tain you worfe in my Expofition, than I do in my Din-
ner : But however. Ceremony apart, that I may not feem
to want much Perfualion, omitting other Meanings that
Interpreters put upon the Place : This feems to me to be
the moral Senfe j " That private Men may be wrought
" upon by Admonition, Reproofs, Laws and Menaces; but
" Kings v^ho are above Fear, the more they are oppofed,
" the fiercer their Difpleafure j and therefore Kings, as often
'' as they are refolutely bent upon any, fhould be left to
" themfelves : Not in refped of any Confidence of the
" Goodnefs of their Inclinations; but becaufe God many
*^ Times makes Ufe of their Follies and Wickednefs, as- the
«' Inftruments for the Punifhment of the Wicked." As he
forbad that Nebuchodonofor ihould be r-^fifted, becaufe he had
determin'd to chaftife his People by him, as an Inftrument,
And peradventure,that Vv'hich yo^ fays, looks this Way: Who
maketh the Hypocrite reign for the Sim of his Peof)le. And per-
haps, that which Da<vid fays, bewailing his Sin, has the fame
Tendency: Againfl thee -only have I f-ttned, and done this Evil
in thy Sight : Not as if the Iniquity ®f Kings were not fatal
to the People ; but becaufe there is none that has Authority
to condemn them, but God, from whofe Judgment there is
indeed no Appeal, be the Perfon never fo great. Ti. I like
the Interpretation well enough thus far ; but what is meant by
the Rivers of Waters ? Eu. There is a Similitude made ufe
of that explains it. The Wrath of a King is impetuous and
unruly, and not to be led this Way or that Way, but preffes
forward with a reftlefs Fury : As the Sea fpreads itfelf over
the
[ ,o8 ]
the Land, and flows fometimes this Way, and fbmetimes
that Way, not fparing Paftures nor Palaces, and fometimes
buries in its own Bowels, all that ftands in iis Way j and if
you fhould attempt to flop its Courfe, or to turn it another
Way, you may e'en as well lee it alone : Whereas, let it but
alone, and it will fink of itfelf, as it happens in many great
Rivers, as is ftoried oi Achelous. There is lefs Injury done
by quietly yielding, than b/ violently refilling. Ti. Is there
no Remedy then againft the Unrulinefs of wicked Kings?
.Eu. The firft will be, not to receive a Lion into the City :
The fecond, is to tie him up by parliamentary and municipal
Laws, that he can't eafily break out into Tyranny : But the
bed of all would be, to train him up from his Childhood, in
the Principles -of Piety and Virtue, and to form his Will, be-
fore he underftands his Power. Good Counfels and Perfua-
fions go a great way, provided they be feafonable and gentle.
But the laft Refort muft be to beg of God, to incline the
King's Heart to thofe Things that are becoming a Chriftian
King. Ti. Do you excufe your felh becaufeyou are a Lay-'
man } If I were a Batchelor in Divinity, I lliould value my
felf upon this Interpretation. Eu. I can't tell wherher it is
right or wrong, it is enough for me if it were not impious or
heretical. However, I have done what you required of me;
and now, according to the Rules of Converfation, 'cis my
Turn to hear your Opinion.
TL The Compliment you pafs'd upon my grey Hairs, gives
me fome kind of Tide to fpeak next to the Text, which
will bear yet a more myfterious Meaning. Au. I believe it
may, and I fhould be glad to hear it. Ti. " By the Word
" King, may be meant, a Man fo perfeded, as to have
" wholly fubdued his Lufls, and to be led by the Impulie of
" the Divine Spirit only. Now perhaps it may not be pror
" per to tie up fuch a Perfon to the Conditions of human .
" Laws ; but to leave him to his Mafler, by whom he is go^
" vern'd : Nor is he to be judg'd according to the Meafares
" by which the Frailty of imperfed Men advarces towards
" true Holinefsj but if he fleers another Courfe, we ought
" to fay with St. Vaul, God hath accepted him, and to his orxn
" Majier he fiandi or falls. He that is fpiritual, judgeth of all
" Thijigs, but he himfelf is judged of no Man" To luch,
therefore, let no Man prefcribe ; for the Lord, who hath ap-
pointed Bounds to the Seas and Rivers, hath the Heart of his
King in his Hand, and inclines it which Way foever it pleafes
him : What need is there* to prefcribe to him, that does of the
own accord better Thing? than human Laws oblige him to ?
Or,
Or, how great a Raflmefs were it, to bind that Perfon by
human Conftitutions, who, it is manifeft, by evident Token.^,
is direded by the Infpirations of the Holy Spirit. Eu. O Ti-
mothy, thou haft not only got grey Hairs on this Head, but
you have Ukewife a Mind venerable for experimental Know-
ledge. And I would to God, that we had more fuch Kings
as this King of yours among Chriftians, who, indeed, all of
them ought to be fuch. But we have dwelt long enough
upon our Eggs and Herbs j let them be taken away, and fome-
thing elfe fet in their Room, TL We have done fo well
already on this Ovation., that there is no need of any more,
either of Supplication or Triumph. But fince, by God's A^
fiftance, we have fucceeded fo well in the firft Verfe, I wifli
your Umbra would explain the other, which feems to me a
little more obfcure. Soph. If you'll put a good Conftrudion
upon what I fhall fay, I will give you my Thoughts upon it.
How elfe can a Shadow pretend to give Light to any thing ?
Eu. I undertake that for all the Company ; fuch Shadows as
you give as much Light as our Eyes will well bear. Soph. The
fame Thing feems to be meant here, that Taul fays : That
there are fever al Ways of Life, that lead to Holinefs. Some
aflFed the Miniftry, fome Celibacy, others a married State ;
fome a retired Life, others publick Adminiftrations of the Go-
vernment, according to the various Difpofitions of their Bo~
dies and Minds ; Again, to one Man all Meats are indiffe-
rent, another puts a difference betwixt this Meat and that;
another he makes a difference of days, another thinks every
Day alike. In thefe Things St. Vaul would have every one
enjoy his own Freedom of Mind, without reproaching ano-
ther j nor (hould we cenfure any Man in thofe Cafes, buc
leave him to be judg'd by him that weigheth the Heart. Ic
oftentimes happens, that he that eats may be more acceptable
to God, than he that forbears j and he that breaks a Holy-day,
than he that feems to obferve it j and he that marries, is more
acceptable to God, than a great many that live fingle. I who
am but a Shadow, have fpoken my Mind. Eu. I wifh I
could have Converfation with fuch Shadows often. I think
you have hit the Nail on the Head : But here is one fhat has
lived a Batchelor, and not of the Number of Saints, who have
made rhemfelves Eunuchs, but was made fo for the Sake of
the Kingdom of God, by force to gratify our Bellies, (till
God (Ijall defray both them and Meats). It is a Capon of my
own feeding. I am a great Lover of boil'd Meats. This is
a very good Soop, and thefe are choice Lettuces that are in
it. Pray every one help himlelf to what he likes belt. Bur
3 that
[ "o ]
tliat you may not be deceiv'd, I tell you, that we have a
Courfe of Roaft a coming, and after that fome fmall Defert,
and To conclude. Ti. But we exclude your Wife from Table.
Eu. When you bring your own Wives, mine fliall keep them;
Company. She would, if ilie were here, be nothing but a
Mute in our Company. She talks with more Freedom among
the Women, and we are more at liberty to philofophife. And
befides that, there would be danger, left we fhould be ferv'd
as Socrates was, when he had feveral Philofophers at Table
with him, who took more Pleafure in talking than they did in
eating, and held a long Difpute, had all their Meat thrown on
the Floor by Xautippe, who in a Rage overturn'd the Table.
7^. I believe you have nothing of that to be afraid of: She's
one of the beft-huraour'd Women in the World. Eu. She is
fuch a one indeed, that I fliould be loath to change her if I
might ; and I look upon my felf to be very happy upon that
Account. Nor do I like their Opinion, who think a Man
happy, becaufe he never had a Wife j I approve rather what
the Hebreiu Sage faid. He that has a good Wife has a good
Lot. It is commonly our own Fault, if our Wives be bad,
either for loving fuch as are bad, or making them fo; or elfe
for not teaching them better. Eu. You fay very right, bun
all this while I want to hear the third Verfe expounded:
And methinks the divine Theophilus looks as if he had a mind
to do it. Theo. Truly my Mind was upon my Belly j but
however, I'll fpeak my Mind, fince I may do it without Of-
fence. Eu. Nay, it will be a Favour to us if you fhould
happen to be in any Error, becaufe by that Means you
will give us Occafion of finding the Truth. Th. The Sen-
tence feems to be of the fame Importance with that the
Lord exprefles by the Prophet Hofea, Chap. vi. I dejire
Mercy and not Sacrifice, and the Knowledge of God more than
Burnt-Offirings. This is fully explain'd, and to the Life,
by the Lord Jefus, in St. Matthew, Chap. ix. who being
at Table in the Houfe of Levi the Publican, with feve-
ral others of the fame Stamp and Profeffion, the Thari-
feeSi who were pufiF'd up with their external Obfcrvance of
the Law, without any regard to the Precepts of it, where-
upon the whole Law and Prophets depend, (with a Defign
to alienate the Affedions of his Difciples from himj ask'd
them, why their Mafter fat at the Table of Publicans and
Sinners? From whole Converfation xhoitye-ws, that would
be accounted the more holy, abftain'd j to that Degree, thac
if any of the ftridter Sort had met any of them by Chance,
as fopn as they came home they would walh themfclves.
And
[ 1" ]
And when the Difciples, being yet but raw, could give no
Anfweri the Lord anlwer'd both for himfelf and them: Tioey
( fays he ) ou^a are 'whole need not a Fhyfuian, hut they that
arejick; but go you and learn -what that vjeaneth, I tvill have
Mercy a?id not Sacrifice j for I came not to call the Righteous hut
Sinners. Eu. Indeed you have very handfomely explain'd the
Matter, by the comparing of Texts, which is the befb Way
of expounding Scripture. But I would fain know what ic
is he calls Sacrifice, and what Mercy. For how can we
reconcile it, that God fhould be againfl: Sacrifices, who had
commanded fo many to be offered ? Th. How far God is
againft Sacrifices, he himfelf teaches us in the firil Chapter
of the Prophecy of Ijaiah. There were cerrain legal Obliga-
tions among the jFeivs, which were rather Significations of^
Holinefs, than of the Eflence of it j of this Sort are Holy-
4ays, Sabbatifms, Falls, Sacrifices; and there were certain
other Obligations of perpetual Force, being good in their own
Nature, and not meerly by being commanded. Now God
was difpleafed with the Je'wt, not becaufe they did obferve
the Rites and Ceremonies, but becaufe being vainly puffed
up with thefe, they negledled thofe Things which God dees
in a more efpecial Manner require of usj and wallowing ia
Avarice, Pride, Rapines, Hatred, Envy, and other Iniquiries,
they thought they merited Heaven, becaufe that upon Ho-
ly-days, they vifited the Temple, offered Sacrifices, abilaincd
from forbidden Meats, and frequently fafted ; embracina the
Shadow of Religion, and negledling the Subftance. But in
that, he fays, I will have Mercy, and not Sacrifice ; I take k
to be faid according to the Idiom of the Hehreiu Tongue ^
that is to fay, Mercy rather than Sacrifices, as Solomon inter-
prets it in this Text, to do Mercy and Judgmejit, is more ac-
ceptable to the Lord than Sacrifices. And again, the Scrip-
ture expreffes all the charitable Offices to our Neighbour,
under the Terms of Mercy, and eleemofinary Tendernefs,
which takes its Name from Pity. By Sacrifices, I fuppofe
is intended, whatfoever refpefls corporal Ceremonies, and
has any Affinity with Judaifm, fuch as are the choice of
Meats, appointed Garments, Falling, Sacrifices, the faying
over of Prayers, as a Boy fays his Leflon : refting upon
Holy-days. Thefe things, as they are not to be negleded in
their due Seafon, fo they become difpleafing to God,^'if a Man
relying too much upon thefe Obfervances, fhall negled: to
do Ads of Mercy, as often as his Brother's Neceffity require*
it. And k has fome Appearance of Holinefs in it, to avoid
the Converfation of wicked Men : But this ought to give Place
ss oft as there is an Opportunity offer'd of (hewing Charity to our
Neigh-
Neighbour. It is a Point ot Obedience to refl upon holy Days :
But it would be very impious to make fuch a Confcience of
a Day as to fuffer a Brocher to pei ifli upon it, Thierefore to
keep tiie Lord's Day is a l<ind of Sacrifice : But to be reconcil'd
to my Brother is a Point of Mercy. And then, as for Juiig-
vient, though that may feem to refpeit Perfons in Power;
who oftentimes oppreG the weak therewith, yet it feems rea-
fonable enough in my O[)inion that the pcor Man fhould re-
mind him of that in Hojea, And the Knoiuledge of God mcrs
than burnt Offerings. No Man can be faid to keep the Law
of God, but he rhac keeps it accc<rdingto the Mind of God.
The Jev:s could life up an Afs upon the Sabbath that was
fallen into a Pit, and yet calumniated our Saviour for pre-
ferving a Man upon that Day. This was a prepofterous
Judgment, and not according to the Knowledge of Godj
for they did not confider that thefe Things were made for
Man, and not Man for them. But I fhould have efleem'd ic ,
Pr-rfumption in me to have faid thefe Things, ii you had noc
commanded it^ and I had rather learn of others Things
more apropos. Eu. This is fo far from being a Prefump-
tion, that it looks rather like an Infpirarion. But while we
are thus plentifully feeding our Souls, we muft not neglecT;
their Companions. Ti. Who are thofe.^ Eu. Our Bodies^
are not they the .Soul's Companions. I had rather call them
fo, than Inftruraents, Habitations or Sepulchres. Ti. This is
certainly to be plentifully refrefh'd when the whole Man is re- ,
frefh'd. Eu. I fee you are very backward to help yourfelvesj \
therefore, if you pleafe, I'll order the Roaft-meatto be brought
us, left inftead of a good Entertain n^^ent I (liould treat you with
along; one. Now you fee your Ordinary, Here is a Shoulder
of Mutton, but i]|;is a very fine one, a Capon and two brace of
Partridges. Thefe indeed I had from the Market, this little
Farm fupply'd me with the reft, Ti. It is a noble Dinner,
fit for a Prince. Eu. For a Carmelite, you mean. But fuch
as it is you are welcome to it. If the Provifion be not very
dainty you have ic very freely. Ti- Your Houfe is fo full of
Talk, that not only the Walls but the very Cup fpeaks. Eu.
What does it fay? Ti. No Man is hurt but by himfelf. Eu.
The Cup pleads for the Caufe of the Wine. For it is a
common Thing, if Perfons get a Fever or the Head-ach by
over drinking, to lay it upon the Wine, when they have
brought it upon rhem'""]vfs by their Excefs. Soph. Mine
fpeaks Greek. '£;/ ona dn^act, In Wine there's Truth ( when
Wine is in the VVir i> 'U. j This gives us to underftand
that it is nor fafe for Priefts or Privy-Counfellcrs to give
therafelves fo to Wine, beeaufc Wine comUiOnly brings that
to
[ "3 ]
td the Mouth that lay conceard in the Heart. So. In old
Time among the Egyptiam it was unlawful for their Prreftl
to drink any Wine at all, and yet in thofe Days there was
no auricular Confeffion. Eu. It is now become lawful for
all Perfons to drink Wine, but how expedient it is I know nor.
So. What Book is thzuEulalius, you take out of your Pocket.'
It feems to be a very neat one, it is all over gilded. Eu.
It is more valuable for the Infide than the our. It is St. Tauh
Epiftles, that I always carry about me, as my beloved En-
tertainment, which I take out now upon the Occafion of
fomething you faid, which minds me of a Place, that I have
beat my Brains about a long time, and I am not to come to
a full Satisfadion in yet. Ic is in the 6ch Chapter of the firft
Epiftle to the Corinthians, All Things are lawful for me, but
all Things are not expedient j all Things are larvful for me, but
I will not be brought under the Power of any. In the firft
Place (if we will believe the Stoicksj nothing can be pro-
fitable to us, that is not honeft : How comes Paul then
to diftinguifh betwixt that which is lawful, and that which is
expedient.? It is not lawful to whore, or get drunk, how
then are all Things lawful? But if Paul Ipeaks of fome
particular Things only, which he would have to be lawful,
I can't guefs by the Tenor of the Place, which thofe parti-
cular Things are. From that which follows, it may be ga-
ther'd, that he there fpeaks of the Choice of Meats. For
fbme abftain from Things ofFer'd to Idols, and others from
Meats forbidden by Mofes's Law. In the Sth Chapter he
treats of Things ofFer'd ro Idols, and in the loth Chapter ex-
plaining the Meaning of this Place, fays, All Things are law-
ful for me, but all Things are not expedient ; all Thmgs are law^
ful for me, but all Things edify not. Let no Man feek his own,
but every Man the Things of another. Whatfoever is fold in
the Shambles, eat ye. And that which St. Paul fubj^^ins, a-
grees with what he faid before : Meat for the Belly, and
the Belly for Meats ^ but God fj all defiroy both it and them.
Now that which has Refped to the y?/flf^zrd'/ Choice of Meats,
is in the Clofe of the loth Chapter. Give none Offence, nei-
ther to the fews nor the Gentiles, nor to the Church of God j
even as I pleafe all Men in all Things, net Jeeking my owtt
Profit, but the Profit of many, that they may be fav'd. Where
in chat he laith ro rhe Gentiles, he feems to have Ref:ed to
Things ofFer'd 'o Idols ; and where he fpeaketh to the Jews he
feems to refer to the Choice of Meats j what he favs to the
Church of God appertains to the Weak, colleded out of
both Sorts. It was lawful, it i'eems, to eat of all Meats
whatibever, and all Things that are clean to the Clean. But
, I . she
[ 114 ]
the Queflion remaining is. Whether it be expedient or no ?
The Liberty of the Gofpel makes all Things lawful j but
Charity has always a Regard to my Neighbour's Good, and
therefore often abftains from Things lawful, rather cbufing
to condefcend to what is for another's Advantage, than to
make ufe of its own Liberty. But now here arifes a double
Difficulty J firft, that here is nothing that either precedes
or follows in the Context that agrees with this Senfe. For
he chides the Corinthians for being Seditious, Fornicators,
Adulterers, and given to go to Law before wicked Judges.
Now what Coherence is there with this to fay. All Things are
laiufulfor mej, but all Things are not expedient 1 And in the fol-
lowing Matter, he returns to the Cafe of Incontinence, which
he had alfo repeated before, only leaving out the Charge of
Contention: But the Body (fays he) is not for Fornica-
tion, but for the Lord, and the Lord for the Body. But
however, this Scruple may be folv'd too, becaufe a little before,
in the Catalogue of Sins, he had made mention of Idolatry.
Be not deceived, neither Fornicators, nor Idolaters, nor Adulterers ;
now the Eating of Things ofFer'd to Idols is a certain kind
of Idolatry, and therefore he immediately fubjoins. Meat is for
the Belly, and the Belly for Meat. Intimating, that in a Cafe
of Neceffity, and for a Seafon, a Man may eat any Thing,
unlefs Charity toward his Neighbour fhall difluade it: But
that Uncleannefs is in all Perfons, and at all Times to be de-
tefted. It is Matter of Necefficy that we ear, but that Ne-
ceflity fhall be taken away at the Refurredion of the
Dead. But if we are luftful, that proceeds from Wicked-
nefs. But there is another Scruple that I can't tell how to
folve, or how to reconcile to that PaJJage : But I ivill not
be brought under ths Power of any. For he fays, he has the
Power of all Things, and yet he will not be brought un-
der the Power of any one. If he may be faid to be un-
der another Man's Power, that abftains for fear of offend-
ing, it is what he fpeaks of himfelf in the ninth Chapter,
Vor though I be free from all Men, yet have made my felf
Servant to all, that I may gain all. St. Ambrofe ftumbling,
I fuppofe, at this Scruple, takes this to be the Apoftle's ge-
nuine Senfe for the better underftanding of what he fays
in the 9th Chapter, where he claims to himfelf the Power
of doing that which the reft of the Apoftles (either true
or falfej did, of receiving a Maintenance from them to
whom he preach'd the Gofpel. But he forbore this, al-
though he might have done it, as a Thing expedient among
the Corinthians, whom he reprov'd for fo many and enor-
mous Iniquities. And moreover, he that receives, is in
fome
C "5 3
fome Degree in the Power of him from v/hom fie re-
ceives, and fufFers fome Kind of Abatemenc in his Au-
thority. For he that takes, cannot fo freely reprove his
Benefactor j and he that gives will not fo eafily tai<e a Re-
prehenfion from him that he has obliged. And in this
did the Apoftle Paul abfbain from thac which was law-
ful for the Credit of his apoftolical Liberty, which in this
Cafe he would no: have to be rendered obnoxious to any
one, that he might with the greater Freedom and Authori-
ty reprehend their Vices. Indeed, I like this Explication o£
St. Ambrofe very well. But yet, if any Body had rather
apply this Paflfage to Meats, St. Fauh Saying, hut I luill not
be brought under the Fower of any, may be taken in this Senle :
Although I may fometimes abftain from Meats offered to
Idols, or forbidden by the Mofaical Law, out of Regard to
the Salvation of my Brothers Souls, and the Furtherance of the
Gofpel; yet my Mind is free, well knowing that it is law-
ful to eat all manner of Meats, according to the Neceffity
of the Body. But there were fome falfe Apoiiles, who
went about to perfuade them, that fome Meats, were in them-
felves, by their own Nature unclean, and were to be for-
born, not upon Occafion only, but at at all Times ^ and that
as ftri6t as Adultery or Murder. Now thofe that were thus
mifleJ, were reduced under another's Power, and fell from
their Gofpel Liberty. Theophyla£i (as I remember) is the
only Man that advances an Opinion different from all thefe.
It is lawful, fays he, to eat all Sorts of Meats j but it is not
expediejtt to eat to excefs ; for from Luxury comes Lujf.
There is no Impiety, indeed, in this Senfej but it does noc
feem to me to be the genuine Senfe of the Place, I have
acquainted you with my Scruples, it will become your Cha-
rity to fet me to rights. Eu. Your Difcourfe is. indeed, an-
fwerable to your Name, and one that knows how to pro-
pound Queftions as you do, has no need of any Body to
anfwer them but himfelf. For you have fo propofed your
Doubts, as to put one quite out of doubt , altho' Sr. Paul,
in that Epiftle, (propofing to handle many Things at once)
paffes often from one Argument to another, repeating whac
he had intermitted. Chryfoglottus. If I were not afraid, that
by my Loquacity I fliould divert you from eating your
Dinners, and did think it were lawful to intermix any Thing
out of profane Authors with facred Difcourfes, I would
venture to propofe fomething that I read to Dayj not fo
much with Perplexity, as with a fingular Delight. Eu. What-
foever is pious, and conduces to good Manners, ought noc
to be called profane. The firll Place muft indeed be given
I 2 to
to the Authority of the Scripture'^; but neverthelefs I
fometimes find fome Things faid or written by the Aniients ^
nay, even by the He?ithensi nay, by the Poets themfeU'es, fo
chaftly, fo holily, and fo divinely, that I cannot perfuade my-
felf, but that when they wrote them, they were divinely
infpired ; and p'^rhaps the Spirit of Chrift diffufes itfelf farther
than we imagine j and that there are more Saints than we
have in our Catalogue. To confefs freely among Friends,
I can't read Tully of old Age, of FriendiJjtp, his Offices, or
his Ttifculan ^ieftmis, without kiffing the Book, and Vene-
ration for that divine Soul. And on the contrary, when I
read fome of our modern Authors, treating of Politics, Oe-
conomics and Ethics, good God ! how cold they are in
Con;parifon of thefc? Nay, how do they feem to be infen-
fiblc of what they write themfelves ? So that I had rather lo(e
Scotus, and twenty more fuch as he, than one Cicero or Tlu-
tarch. Not that I am wholly againft rhem neither ; but be-
caufe, by the reading of the one, I find my felf become bet-
ter; whereas, I rife from the other, I know nor how cojd-
ly afFeded to Virtue, but moft violently inclined to Cavil
and Contention; therefore never fear to pr^pnfe it, vhaN
foever it is. Ch. Although all Tullfs Books of Phiiofophy
feem to breathe out fomething divine; yet that Treatife of
old Age, that he wrote in old Age, feems to me to be ac-
cording to the Greek Proverb ; the Song of the dyivg Svjan.
I was reading it to Day, and thefe Words pleafing me above
the reft, I got 'em by Heart : Should it pleafe God to give me
a Grant to begin my Life again from my very Cradle, and ome
more to run over the Courfe of my Tears 1 have lived, I
•would not upon avy Terms accept of it : Nor vjould I, havhg
in a Manner finijhed my Race, run it over again frojn the Jlart-
ing Place to the Goal: For what Pleafitre has this Lffe in it ?
nay, rather, -what Pain has it not ? But if there vjere fwty
there would be undoubtedly in it Satiety or Trouble. I am not
for bewailing my faft Life as a great many, ajid karmd Men
too, have done, nor do I repent that I have liv^d-^ becaufe,
J have liv'dfo, that 1 am fatisffd, I have not liv'd i?t vain.
And when I leave this Life, I leave it as an Inn, and not as a
Place of Abode. For Nature has given us our Bodies as an
Inn to lodge in, and not to dwell in. O .' glorious Day will that
he, when 1 (hall leave this Rabble-rout and Defilements of the
World behind me, to go to that Society and World of Spirits !
Thus far out of Cato. What could be fpoken more divinely
by a Chriftian ? I wifh all the Difcourfes of our Monk?, even
with their holy Virgins, were fuch as the Dialogue of this aged
Pagan, with the Pagan Youths of his Time. Eu. It may be
objected
[ "7 ]
objeded, that this Colloquy of Tully\ was but a Fidlion-
Ch. \i is all one to mcj wherher the Honour of rhefe Expref-
fions be given to CatOy who thought .ind fpoke them:, or to
Cicero, whofe Mind could form fuch divine Things in Con-
templation, and whofe Pen could reprefent fuch excellent
Matter in Words fo anfwerable to them j thoui;h indeed I am
apt to think that Cato, if he did not Iprak thefe very
Wordsj yet that in his familiar Converiarion he Lv:'d Words
of the very fame Import, For indeed, M. Tully was not
a Man of that Impudence, to draw Cato orherwife than he
was. Beiide, that fjch an Uahkenefs ri a Dialogue would
have been a great Indecorum, which is the thing chiefly to
be aimed at m this Sort of Difcourfej and efpeciaily, at a
Time when his Charadter was iVelli in tl^e Memories of all
Men. Th. That which you lay is very likely: But I'll tell
you what came into my Mind upon your Recital. I have
often admired with myfelf, that confideii..gthat all Men wifli
for long life, and are afraid of Death j that yet, I have
fcarce found any Man fo happy, (I doa't fpeak of old, but
of middle aged Men)j but that if the Qaeftion were put to
him, whether or no, if it fhould be granted hitn xo grow
young again, and run over the fame good and ill Fortune
that he had before, he would not u.ake the fame Anfwer
that Cato did; efpecial y pafling a true Ps.efled;ion upon the
mixture of Good and 111 of h;s pafl: Life. For the re-
membrance even of the pleafanteft Part of it is com^'ionly
attended with Shame, and Sting of Confcience, infomuch
that the Memory of paft Delights is more painful to us, than
that of paft Misfortunes. Therefore it was wifely done of
the ancient Poets in the Fable of Lethe, to reprefent the
Dead drinking -largely of the Waters of Forgetfulnefs, be-
fore their Souls were aflFedted with any defire of the Bodies
they had left behind them. Lu. It is a Thing well worthy
of our Admiration, and v.'hat I my felf have obferv'd la
fome Perfons. But that in Cato thar plr-afes n-e the m ft
is his Declaration. Neither am I ferry that I have ilvd.
Where is the Chrijlian, that has fo led his Life, as to be
able to fay as much as this old Man.^ It is a common
Thing for Men, who have fcrap'd great filiates together
by Hook or by Crook, when they are upon their Death
Beds, and about to leave them, then to think they have
not liv'd in vain. But Cato therefore thought* that he had
not liv'd in vain, upon the Confcience of his having diC-
charg'd all the Parts of an honeft and ufeful Cicizcn, and
an uncorrupted Magiftratej and that he iliould leave to Po-
fterity. Monuments of his Virtue and Indultry. And what
I 3 could
C"8]
could be fpoken more divinely than this, I depart as from
an Inn, and not an Habitation. So long we may ftay in an
Inn till the Hofl bids us be gone, but a Man will not eafily
be forc'd from his own Houfe, And yet from hence the
Fall of the Houfe, or Fire, or fome Accident drives us. Or
if nothing of thefe happen, the Strudure falls to pieces with
old Age, thereby admonifliing us that we muft change our
Qtiarcers. Neph. That ExprelFion of Socrates in Vlato is
not lefs elegant : Methinhs, fays he, the Soul of a Man is in
the 'Body as in a Garrijbn, there is no quitting of it ivithout
the Leave of the Gerierah, nor no faying any longer in it, than
during the Pleafure of him that placd him there. This Allu-
fion of Plato's, of a Garrifon inftead of a Houfe, is the
more fignificant of the two. For in a Houfe is only im-
ply'd Abode, in a Garrifon we are appointed to fome Duty
by our Governor. And much to the fame Purpofe is it,
that in Holy Writ the Life of Man is fometimes call'd a
Warfare, and at other times a Race. Eu. But Cato's Speech,
methinks, feems to agree very well with that of St. Paul,
who writing to the Corinthians, calls that heavenly Manfion,
V'hich we look for after this Life in one Place oikluv a
Hoi'.fe, in another otKifjriejov a Manfion, and moreover (be-
fides that) he calls the Body ckHv©- a Tabernacle. For
'ive alfo (fays he) 'who are in the Tabernacle, groan, being bur-
ihcned. Neph. Much after this manner fays Sz. Peter ; And
I think it ?nect (fays he) as long as I am in this Tabernacle ,
to fir you up by putting you in mind, bemg ajfured that I
fjall fjortly put off this Tabernacle. And what elfe does
Chrif himfclf fay to us, but that we fhould live and watch,
r.s if we were prefently to die : And fo apply our felves to
hoiieft Things, as if we were to live for ever ? And when Vv'c
hear thefe excellent: Words of Cato, O that glorious Day, do
we not fcem to hear St. Paul himfelf faying, I defre to be
dijfohed, and to be with Chrift ? How happy are they that
wait for Death with fuch a Frame of Mind ? But as for
Cato's Speech, altho' it be an excellent one, methinks there is
more Boldnefs and Arrogance in it, than becomes a Chri-
flian. Indeed, I never read any thing in a Heathen, that
comes nearer to a Chrlftian, than what Socrates faid to Crito,
a little before he drank his Poifon j Whether I fiall be ap-
proved or not in the Sight of God, I cannot tell; but this I ant
certain of, that I have inofi affeHionately endeavoured to pleafe
him y and I have a good Hope, that he nvill accept of my Endea-
vours. This great Man vi'as diffident of his own Performances;
but fo, that being confcious to himfelf of the Propenfity of
his Inclination to obey the divine WilL he conceived a good
Hope,
[ "P ]
Hope, that God, of his Goodnefs, would accept him for the
Honefty of his Intentions. Neph. Indeed, it was a wonderful
Elevation of Mind in a Man, that knew not Chrift, nor the
holy Scriptures : And therefore, I can fcarce forbear, when I
read fuch Things of fuch Men, but cry out, San&e Socratesy
or a pro nobis ^ Saint Socrates, pray for us. Ch. And I have
much ado fometimes to keep my feif from entertaining good
Hopes of the Souls of Virgil and Horace. Neph. But how un-
v/illingly have I feen many Chriftiarts die ? Some put their
Truft in Things not to be confided in ^ others breathe out
their Souls in Defperation, either out of a Confcioufnefs of
their lewd Lives, or by reafon of Scruples that have beers in-
jedted into their Minds, even in their dying Hours, by fome
indifcreec Men, die almoft in defpair.
Ch. It is no wonder to find them die fo, who have fpent
their Time in philofophizing about Ceremonies all their Lives,
Neph. What do you mean by Ceremonies ? Ch. I'll tell you,
but with Proteftation over and over beforehand, that I don'c
find fault with the Sacraments and Rites of the Church,
but rather highly approve of them j but I blame a wicked and
fuperftitious fort of People, or (to put it in the fofteft
Term) the fimple and unlearned Perfons, who teach People
to put their Confidence in thefe Things, omitting thofe
Things which mai<e them truly Chriftians. Neph. I don'c
yet clearly underftand v^hat it is you aim at. Ch. I'll be
plainer then. If you look into Chriilians in common, don'c
you find they live as if the whole Sum of Religion confided
in Ceremonies? With how much Pomp are the antient Rites
of the Church fee forth in Baptifm ? The Infant waits withouc
the Church Door, the Exorcifm is performed, the Catechi-
zing is performed. Vows are made, Satan is abjured, with all
his Pomps and Pleafures ; then the Child is anointed, fign'd,
feafon'd with Salt, dipt, a Charge given to his Sureties to
fee it well brought up ^ and the Oblation-Money being paid,
they are difcharged, and by this Time the Child pafles for a
Chriftian, and in fome Senfe is fo. A litde Time after, it is
anointed again, and in Time learns to confefs, receive the
Sacrament, is accuftom'd to reft upon Holy-days, to hear Di-
vine Service, to faft fometimes, to abftain from Flefh , and
if he obferves all thefe, he palfes for an abfolute Chriftian.
He marries a Wife, and then comes on another Sacrament i
he enters into Holy Orders, is anointed again, and confecrated>
his Habit is chang'd, and then to Prayers. Now I approve
of the doing of all this well enough ;, but the doing of them
more out of Cuftom than Confcience , I don't approve ;
but to think that nothing elfe is requilite for the making a
I 4. Chriftian
Chriftian, I abfolutely difapprove: For the greateft Part of
Men in. the V/orld truft to thefe Things, and ihii-.k they
have nothing elfc to do, but get Wealth by Right or Wrong,
to gratify their Pa,{Iions of Rage, Luft, Malice, Ambition :
And this they do till they come upon their Dcirh B"d; and
then there foUov^^s more Ceremonies ; Confeflion upon Con-
feffion, more Undion ftill, the Eucharifts'are adtruniftred^
Tapers, the Crofs, holy Water are brought in ; Indulgences
are procured, if they are to be had for Love or Moneys Or-
ders are given for a magnificent Funeral j and then comes on
another folemn Contrad : When the Man is in the Agony
of D>°adi, there's one flands by bawling in his Ear, and now
and ihen difpatches him before his Time, if he chance to be
a little in Drink, or have better Lungs than ordinary. Now
although thofe Things may be well enough, as they are done
in Conformity to ecclefiaftical Cuftomsj yet there are fome
more internal Impreffions, which have an Efficacy to fortify
us againft the Aflaults of Death, by filling our Hearts with
Joy, and helping us to go out of the World with-^ Chriflian
AfTurance. Eu. You fpeak very pioufly and truny; but in
the mean time here is no Body eats : I told you before, that
you muft exped: nothing after the fecond Courfe, and that
a Country one too, left any Body fhould look for Pheafants,
Moor-hens, and fine Kickfhaws. Here, Boy ! take away thefe
Things, and bring up therefl. You fee, not the Affluence, [i]
but the Straitnefs of my Fortune. This is the Produd of my
Gardens you have feen j don't fpare, if you like any thing.
Ti. There's fo great a Variety, it does a Man good to look
upon it. Eu. That you mayn't altogether defpiie my Thrif-
tinefs, this Difh would have chear'd up the Heart of old Hy-
larion, the evangelical Monk, with a hundred more of his
Fellows,' the Monks of that Age. But Vaul and Anthony
would have lived a Month upon it, Ti. Yes, and Prince
Teter too, I fancy would have leap'd at it, when he lodg'd
at Simon the Tanner's. Eu. Yes j and Vaul toe, I believe,
when by reafon of Poverty he fat up a-Nights to make Tents.
Ti. How much do we owe to the Goodnefs of God ! But
yet, I had rather fufFer Hunger with Veter and Taul, upon
Condition, that what I wanted for my Body, might be made
[i] Erafmus alludes to the common Saying, that was ufed of a Perfon to
whom all Things abounded, that he had gotten the Cornu-copiis, (i- e. the
Horn of Plenty) from a Fable that is related of 'Jupiter, th t he fave the
Kymphs of Crete, as a Reward for their taking Care of him, one of the
Horns of the Goat Amalthea, by whofe Milk he had been nounflied j fay-
ing, that the Quality of this Horn fhould be fuch, that whatlbever they
fliould wiflj forj fijould fpring out of it.'
[ «^« ]
up by the Satisfadion of my Mind. Eu. Let us learn of St.
Tauh both how to abound, and how to fuflPer Want. When
we want, let us praife God, that he has afforded us Matter to
exercife our Frugality and Patience upon : When we abound,
let us be thankful for his Munificence, who by his Liberality,
invites and provokes us to love him ; and ufing thofe Things
the divine Bounty has plentifully beftowed upon us, with Mo-
deration and Temperance ; let us be mindful of the Poor,
whom God has been pleas'd to fufFer to want what he
has made abound to us, that neither Side may wane an
Occalion of exercifing Virtue : For he beftows upon us
fufScient for the Relief of our Brother's Neceffity, that we
may obtain his Mercy, and that the Poor on the other
Hand, being refrefh'd by our Liberality, may give him
Thanks for putting it into our Hearts, and recommend us
to him in their Prayers j and, very well remember'd, coine
hither, Boy^ bid my Wifiit (end Gudula fome of the road
Meat that's left, 'tis a very good poor Woman in the Neigh-
bourhood big with Child, her Husband is lately dead, a
profufe, lazy Fellow, that has left nothing but a Stock of
Children. Chrift has commanded to give to every one that
asks J but if I fhould <io fo, I fhould go a begging my
feif in a Month's time. Etj I fuppofe Chrift means only
fuch as ask for Neceffaries : For to them who ask, nay,
who importune, or rather extort great Sums from People
to furnifli voluptuous Entertainments, or, which is worfe,
to feed Luxury and Luft, it is Charity to deny; nay, it is
a kind of Rapine to beftow that which we owe to the
prefent Neceffity of our Neighbours, upon thofe that will
abufe it ; upon this Confideration it is, that it leems to me,
that they can fcarcely be excus'd from being guilty of a
mortal Sin, who at a prodigious Expence, either build or
beautify Monafteries or Churches, when in the mean time
fo many living Temples of Chrift are ready to ftarve for
want of Food and Clothing, and are fadly afflided with the
want of other Necefiarics. When I was in England, I faw
St. Thomas's Tomb [i] all over bedeck'd with a vaft Num-
ber of Jewels of an immenfe Price, befides other rich
Furniture, even to Admiration; I had rather that thefe Su-
perfluities fhould be apply'd to charitable Ufes, than to be
referv'd for Princes^ that fhall one Time or other make a
Booty of them. The holy Man, I am confident, would
[i] Of nomas Becket, Archbifhop of Canterbury, who in the Time of
King Henry the Second was affaliinated in the Church, buried there, and
afterwards canoniz'd for a Saint by the Pope.
have
[ 122 ]
have been better pleas'd, to have his Tomb adorn'd with
Leaves and Flowers. When 1 was in Lotnbatdy, I faw a
Cloyfter of the Carthufians, not far from Faiia., the Cha-
pel is built from Top to Bottom, within and without, of
white Marble, and almoft: all that is in it, as Altarsy Pil-
lars, and Tombs, are all Marble. To what Purpofe was k
to be at fuch a vaft Expence upon a Marble Temple, for a
few folitary Monks to fing in ? And 'cis more Burthen to
them than Ufe too, for they are perpetually troubled with
Strangers, that come thither, only out of mere Curiofity, to
fee the Marble Temple. And that, which is yet more ridi-
culous, I was told there, that there is ar^ Endowment of three
thoufand Ducats a Year for keeping the Monaftery in Re-
pair. And there are fbme that think that it is Sacrilege, to
convert a Penny of that Money to any other pious Ufes>;
contrary to the Intention of the Teftator j they had rather
pull down, that they n.^ay rebuild ' than not go on with build-
ing. I thought meet to mennon thefe, being fomething
more remarkable than ordinary j.tho' we have a world of
Inftances of this kind up and down in our Churches. This,
in my Opinion, is rather Ambitioti than Charity. Rich Men
now-a-days will have their Monuments in Churches, where-
as in Times paft they could hardly get Room for the Saints
there ; They mufl; have their Images there, and their Pidtures,
forfooth, with their Names at length, their Titles, and the
Infcriprion of their Donation ; and this takes up a confide-
rable Part of the Churchy and I believe in time they'll be
for having their Corpfe laid even in the very Altars them-
felves. But perhaps, fome will fay, would you have their
Munificence be difcourag'd ; I fay no, by no means, provided
v;hat they ofFer to the Temple of God be worthy of it. But
if I were a Priefl: or a Bifhop, I would put it into the Heads
of thofe thick-fcuU'd Courtiers or Merchants, that if they
would atone for their Sins to Almighty God, they fhould
privately beftow their Liberality upon the Relief of the Poor.
But they reckon all as loft, that goes out fo by Piece-meal,
and is privily diftributed toward the Succour of the Needy,
that the next Age fhall have no Memorial of the Bounty. But
I think no Money can be better beftow'd,than that which Chrift
bimfelf would have put to his Account, and makes himfelf
Debtor for. Ti. Don't you take that Bounty to be well
plac'd that is beftow'd upon Monafteries? Eu. Yes, and I
would be a Benefadtor my felf, if I had an Eftate that would
allow it^ but it fhould be fuch a Provifion for Neceffaries,
as (hould not reach to Luxury. And I would give fomething
too, wherefoever I found a religious "Man that wanted it.
Ti.
[ 123 ]
Ti. Many are of Opinion, that what is given to common
Beggars, is not well beftowed. Eu. I would do fomeching
that Way too^ but with Difcretion: But in my Opinion, it
were better if every City were to maintain their own Poor ;
and Vagabonds and fturdy Beggars were not fuffer'd to ftrole
about, who want Work more than Money. Ti. To whom
then would you in an efpecial Manner give? How much?
And to what Purpofes ? Eu. It is a hard matter for me to
anfwer to all thefe Points exadtly : Firfl: of all, there fhould
be an Inclination to be helpful to all, and after that, the Pro-
portion muft be according to my Ability, as Opportunity
mould offer; and efpecially to thofe whom I know to be Poor
and Honeilj and when my own Purfe fail'd me, I would
exhort others to Charity, Ti. Rut will you give us leave now
to difcourfe freely in your Dominions? Eu. As freely as if
you were at home at your own Houfes. Ti. . You don't
love vaft Expences upon Churches, you fay, an;^ this Houfe
might have been built for lefs than it was. Eu. Indeed, I
think this Houfe of mine to be within the Compafs of clean-
ly and convenient, far from Luxury, or I am miftaken.
Some that live by begging, have built with more State ; and
yet, thefe Gardens of mine, fuch as they are, pay a Tribute to
the Poor j and I daily leflen my Expence, and am the more
frugal in Expence upon my felf and Family, that I may con-
tribute the more plentifully to them. Ti. It all Men were
of your Mind, it would be better than it is with many good
People who deferve better, that are now in extreme Want;
and on the other Hand, many of thofe pamper'd Carcafes
would be brought down, who deferve to be taught Sobrie-
ty and Modefty by Penury. Eu. It may be fo: But fhall
I mend your mean Entertainment now,- with the bed Bit at
laft ? Ti. We have had more than enough of Delicacies al-
ready. Eu. That which I am now about to give you,
let your Bellies be never fo full, won't over-charge your
Stomachs. Ti. What is it? Eu. The Book of the four
Evangelifts, that I may treat you with thebeflatlaft. Read,
Boy, from the Place where you left off laft. Boy. No Man
can ferve t-wo Mafiers ; for either he vji/l bate the one and love
the other} or elfe he 'will held to the one and dejpije the other ;
Tou cannot ferve God and Mavi^non. Tbereforey 1 fay unto
you, take no thought for your "Life, vjhat you pall eat, or what
you Jhall drink : Nor yet for your Body, irhat you fiall put
on. Is not the Life more than Meat, and the Body than Rai-
ment} Eu. <jive me the Book. In this Place Jefus Chrift
feems to me, to have faid the fam.e Thing twice : For inftead
of what he had faid in the firft Place, i. e. he ivill hate:, he
fays immediately, he -will defpfe. And for what he had faid
before^
[ 124 ]
before, he tolll lovs, he by and by turns it, he loill hold to.
The Senie is the fame, tho' the Perfcns are chang'd. Ti. f
do not very well apprehend what you mean. Eu. Let me, if
you pleafe, demonftrate it mathematically. In the firfb Part,
put A for the one, and B for the other. In the latter Parr,
put B for one, and A for the other, inverting the Order j
for eicher A will hate, and B will love, or B will hold to,
and A will defpife. Is it not plain now, that A it, twice hated,
and B twice bekov'd ? Ti. 'Tis very clear. E«. This Con-
jundtion, or, efpecially receated, has the Emphalis of a con-
trary, ( r at leauj a differen'; Meaning. Woald it not be c-
therwife abiurd to fay, 'Either Peter {hall oierfome me, and Til
yieldj or Til yield, and VQttx Jball overcome me ? Ti A preccy
Sophifm, as Fm an honeft iVian. Eu. I fhall think it fo
when you have made it out, not before. "Ihe. I have fome-
thing runs in my Mind, and I'ni wiih Child to have it out :
I can't tell what to make on't, but let it be what it will, you
fhall have k if you pleafe^ if it be a Dream, you fhail be
the Interpreters, or midwife it inco the World. Eu Al-
though it is looked opon to be unlucky to talk of Dreams
at Table, and it is immodefi: ro bring forth before fo many
IVlen j but this Dream, or this Conception of thy Mind, be
it what it will, let us have it. The. In ray Judgment, it is ra-
ther the Thing than rhe Perfon that is chang'd in this Text.
And the Woid:> 07te and one do not reff:r to ^ and B; but
either Pan ot thern, to which of the other you pleafe^ fo that
chufe which you will, it muft be oppofed to that, which is
lignified by the other ; as if you fliould fay, you (hall either
exclude A and admit B, or you ft:/ all admit A and exclude B.
Here's the Thing chang'd, and the Perfon the fame: And
it is fo fpokcn of A, that it is the fame Cale, if you fhould
fay the fame Thing of B j as thus, either you fliall exclude B
or admit A, or admit B or exclude A. Eu. In truth, you
have very arrificiaUy folv'd this Problem; No Mathemati-
cian could have demonftrated it better upon a Slate. Soph.
That which is the greateft Difficulty to me is thisj that we
are forbidden to take Thought for to Morrow^ when yet,
Taul himlelf wrought with his own Hands for Bread, and
fiiarply rebukes lazy People, and thofe that live upon other
Mens Labour, exhorting <hcm to take Pains, and get their
Living by their Fingers Ends, that they may have wherewith
to relieve others in their Neceffities. Are not they holy
and warrantable Labours, by which a (poorj Husband pro-
vides for his dear Wife and Children. Ti. This is a Quefti-
on, which, in my Opinion, may be refolv'd feveral Ways.
Firft of all. This Text had a Particular BefpeH to thofe Tmes.
The
[ >^i ]
The Apoftles being difpers'd far and wide for the preaching
of the Gofpel, all folUcitous Care for a Maintenance was to
be thrown afide, it being to be fupply'd otherwife, having
not Leifure to get their Living by their Labour ^ and efpecially,
they having no Way of ge:ting it. but by Fifhing. But novi
the iVorld is come to another pa/s, and we all love to live at
Eafe, and fhun pains-taking, .^nothe.- Way of expounding
it may be this ; Chrifi had not for'bt'a 'i%vktflry, but Anxiety
of Thought, and this Anxiety of Thought is to be under flood
according to the Temper of Men in common, ivho are anxious
for nothing more than getting a Livelihood-^ that jetting all
other Things afide, this is the only Thing they mind And our
Saviour does in a manner inrimace he fame hirnfelf, when he
fayn, that one Man cannot ferve tvio Majiers. For he that
wholly gives himlelf up ro any Thing, is a Servant to it.
Now he would have the Prop-igation of the Gofpel be
our chief, but yet not our only Care. For he fays. Seek ye
■frfi the Kingdom of Heaven, andtheje Things f Jail be added un-
to you. He does no: fay feek only^ but feek firft. And be-
fidc:>, I rak- "rhe Word to M-irrow, to be hyperbolical, and
in rha:. lignifies a Time to corr'.e, a great while hence. It
being rhe Cuftcm of the M'fers of this World, to be an-
xiojfly fcrapinij toge-iher, andlayi ig upfor P ifterity. £«■ We
al'ow of your Ini-erpreisti -^.n j but what does he mean, when
he fiys.- be not Jolhcitous for your Life, <what you /ball eat ?
The Body is cloth'd, b ir the Sould-^es not eat. Ti. By A-
m7fia, IS meant. Life, which can't fubfift without Meat f or is
in Danger if you rake away its Food): But it is not fo, if
you v\k-c away the Carmen , which :>; more for Modefty than
NcceiTiry. If a Perion is forc'd to go naked, he does not
die prefenrly 3 but want of Food is certain Death. E«. I do
not well undcnrand h'^vv this- Seni'-nce agrees with that
V/hich foilO'VS ; Is not the Life more than Meat, and the Body
than Kai-fieni? For if Life be fo p'ccioui, we ought to take
the moi-e Care of it, 77. This Argument does rather increafe
our S)llicit')uihef. than lefTen it. Eu. But thL is none of our
Ssvicur's Meanino; , who, by this Argument, creates in us a
ftron;i;i;r Confidence lu the Father; For if a bountiful Father
harh given us gratis that which is the more valuable, he
will dib beftow upon us what is lefs valuable: He that has
given us Li^e, will not deny us Food : And he that has
given us Bodies, will by fome Means or other give us
Cioaths too: Therefore, relying upon his Bounty, we have
no V eafon to diiquiec our felves with Anxiety of Thought,
for "] h'Pg" of fr.aller Monicnt. What remains then, but
ufn^ this World, as though we ufed it not, we transfer our
whole
«
[ ,2<J ]
whole Study and Application to the Love of heavenly
Things, and rejecting the World and the Devil univerfaliy,
with all his crafty Delufions, we chearfuUy ferve God alone,
who will never for fake his Children ? But all this while,
here's no Body touches the Fruits. Certainly you may eac
this v^ith Joy, for this is th/^ Produdl of my own Farm, and
did not coll much care to pro\'ide it. Ti. We have very
plentifully fatisfied our V'\^;ji. -tlu. I fliould be glad if you had
latisfied your Minds too. Ti. Our Minds have been fatisfy'd
more plentifully than our Bodies. Eu. Boy, take away, and
bring fome Water j now, my Friends, let us wafh, that if we
have in eating contraded any Guilt, being cieanfed, we may
conclude with a Hymn : If you pleafe, I'll conclude with
what I begun out of St. Chryfifiom. Ti. We entreat you that
you would do it. Eu. Glory to thee, O Lord ^ glory to thee, O
holy One; gkry to thee, O King; as thou hafi given us Meat for
our Bodies, Jo repleju/b our Souls luith foy and Gladnefs in thy
holy Spirit, that vje may he found acceptable in thy Sight, and
may not he made ajhan^d, 'when thou Jlialt render to every one
according to his Works. Boy. Amen. Ti, In truth, it is a
pious and elegant Hymn. Eu. Of St. Chryfo(iom\ Tranflati-
on too. Ti. Where is it to he found ? Eu. In his 5(5ch Ho-
mily on St. Matthew. Ti. I'll be fure to read it to Day:
But I have a Mind to be informed of one Thing, why we
thrice wifli glory to Chrift under thefe three Denominations,
of Lord, Holy, and King. Eu. Becaufe all Honour is due
to him, and efpecially in thefe three Refpeds. We call
him Lord, becaufe he hath redeem'd us by his holy Blood
from the Tyranny of the Devil, and hath taken us to himfelf.
Secondly, We ftile him Holy, becaufe he being the Sandifier
of all Men, not being cootent alone to have freely pardoned
us all our Sins gratis by his holy Spirit, hath beftow'd upon
us his Righteoufnefs, that we might follow Holinefs. Lajily,
We call him King, becaufe we hope for the Reward of a
heavenly Kingdom, from him who fits at the Right-Hand of
God the Father. And all this Felicity we owe to his gratuitous
Bounty, that we have Jefus Chrifi for our Lord, rather than
the Devil to be a Tyrant over us ; that we have Innocence
and Sandity, inftead of the Filth and Uncleannefs of our
Sinsj and inftead of the Torments of Hell, the Joys of
Life everlafting. Ti. Indeed it is a very pious Sentence.
Eu. This is your firft Vifit, Gentlemen, and I muft not dif-
mifs you without Prefents j but plain ones, fuch as your
Entertainment has been. Boy, bring out the Prefents : It is
all one to me, whether you will draw Lots, or every one
chufe for himfelf, they are all of a Price j that is to fay, of
no
[ «27 ]
no Value. You m\\ not find [i] HeUogahaJus's Lottery, a
hundred Horfes for one, and as many Flies for anorher.
Here are four little Books, two Dials, a Lamp, and a Pen-
cafe : Thcfe I flippofe will be more agreeable to you than
Balfams, Dentrifices, or Looking-glaffes. 77. 7'hcy are all fo
good, that it is a hard Matter to chufej but do you diftribute
them according to your own Mind, and they'll come the
welcoiner where they fall. Eu. This litde Book contains
Solomon's Proverbs in Parchment, it teaches V/ifdom, and it
is gilded, becaufe Gold is a Symbol of Wifdom. This fhail
be given to our gray-headed Timothy j that according to the
Dodrine of the Gofpel, co him that has Wifdom, Wifdom
fhall be given and abound. TL I will be fiire to make it my
Study, to ftand in lels need of it. Eu. S-ophro7uus, this Dial
will fuit you very well, whom I know to be fo good a
Husband of your Time, that you won't let a Moment of
that precious Thing be loft. It came out of the furtheft Part
of Dalmatia, and that's all the Commendation I fhall give ir.
Sophr. You indeed admonilli a Sluggard to be diligent. Eu.
You have in this little Book the Gofpel written on Vellum j
it deferv'd to be fet with Diamonds, except that the Heart
of a Man were a fitter Repolitory for ir. Lay it up there,
Theophilus, that you may be more and more like to your
Name. Tkeo. I will do my Endeavour^ that you may not
think your Prcfent ill beftow'd. Eu. There are St. Taul's
Epiftiesj your conffant Companions, Eulalius, are in this
Book i you ufe to have Faul conftantly in your Mouth, and
he would not be there, if he were not in your Heart too :
And now for the Time to come, you may more conveni-
ently have hmi in your Hand, and in your Eye. This is
a Gift wi\h good Counfel into the Bargain. And there is no
Prefent more precious than good Counfel. Eu. This Lamp
is very fit for Ckryfoglottus, who is an infatiable Reader; and
as M. Tully fays, a Glutton of Books. Ch. I give you dou-
ble Thanksj firft, for fo choice a Prefent, and in the next
Place, for admonilliing a drovi'fy Perfon of Vigilance. Eu.
Theodidacius muft have this Pen-Cafe*^ who writes much,
and to excellent Purpofes- and I dare pronounce thefe Pens to
be happy, by which the Honour of our Lord Jefus Chriji-
fhall be celebrated, and that by fuch an Artill. Theod, I
would you could as well have fupply'd me with Abilities,
[i] He was a Monfterof an Emperor, his Name was jlntonius Parius, who
after he had cnade himfelf the Prieft of the Sun, was called Heliogahalus, who,
amopgraany horrid and abominable Afls, made i'uch a DiftributionbyLots.
as
C "^8 ]
as you have with Inftruments. Eu. This contains fbme of
the choiceft of Plutarch's Books of Morals, and \ery fairly
written by one very well skill'd in the Greek j I find in thera
To much Purity of Thought, that it is my Amazement, how
fuch evangelical Notions iliould come into the Heart of a
Heathen. This I will prefent to young Uranius, that is a
Lover of the Greek Language. Here is one Dial left, and
that falls to our Nephalius, as a thrif y Difpenfer of his Time.
Neph. We give you thanks, not only for your Prefents,
but your Compliments too. For this is not io much a ma-
king of Prefents, as Panegyricks. Eu I give you double
Thanks, Gentlemen : Firft for taking thefe fmall Matters in
fo good Part; and fecondly, for the Comfort I have receiv'd
by your learned and pious Difcourfes. What efFeci: my En-
tertainment may have upon you I know not, but this f am
fure of, you'll leave me wifer and better for it. I know you
take no Pieafure in Fiddles or Fools, and much lefs in Dice :
Wherefore, if you pleafe, we -will pafs away an Hour in
feeing the reft of the Curiofities of my little Palace. Ti.
That's the very thing we were about to defirs of you. Eu.
There is no need of entreating a Man of his Word. I
believe you have feen enough of this Summer Hall. Ic
looks three Ways, you fee; and which Wayfbever you turn
your Eye, you have a moft delicate Green before you. If
we pleafe, we can keep out the Air or Rain, by putting
down the Sadies, if either of them be troublefome j and if
the Sun is incommodious, we have thick folding Shutters on
the out-fide, and thin ones within, to prevent that. When
I dine here, I feem to dine in my Garden, not in my
Houfe, for the very Walls have their Greens and their Flow-
ers intermix'd j and 'tis no ill Painting neither. Here's our
Saviour celebrating his laft Supper with his ele6t Difciples. j
Here's Herod a keeping his Birth-day with a bloody Ban- I
quet. Here's Dives, mention'd in the Gofpel, in the Height %
of his Luxury, by and by finking into Hell. And here is
Lazarus, driven av^ay from his Doors, by and by to be
receiv'd into y^'hra^m's Bofom. Ti. We don't very well
know this Story. Eu. It is Cleopatra contending with An-
thony, which fliould be moft luxurious ; fhe has drunk
down the firft Pearl, and now reaches forth her Hand for
the other. Here is the Battel of the Centaurs; and here
.Alexander the Great thrufts his Launce through the Body of
Cljtus. Thefe Examples preach Sobriety to us at Table,
and deter a Man from Gluttony and Excefs. Now let us
go into my Library, it is not furniih'd with very many
Books, but thofe I have, are very good ones. Ti. This
3 Place
[ 115) ]
Place carries a Sort of Divinity in ir, every Thing is fo (hU
ning. Eu. You have now before you my chiefcft Treafure :
You fee nothing at the Table but Glafs and Tin, and I have
in my whole^Houfe but one Piece of Pi ite, and that is a gilt:
Cupi which I preferve 'verj carefully for the Sake of him that
gave it me. This hangin;;^ Globe gives you a Profpedt of the
whole World. And here upon the Wall, are the feveral Re-
gions of ir defcrib'd more at large. Upon chofe other WallSi
you have the Pictures of the mod eminent Authors: There
would be no end of Painting them all. In the firft Place,
here is Chrifi fitting on the Mounts and ftierching forth his
Hand over his Head ; the Father fends a Voice, faying. Hear
ye him : The Holy Ghoft, Vv^ith out-ftrerch'd Wings, and in a,
Glory, embracing him. Ti. As GcJ fiiall blefs me, a Piece
of TFbrk worthy of Apellei. Eu. Adjoining to the Library,
there is a little Study, but a very neat one j and 'tis but re-
moving a Pidlure, and th^re is a Chimney behind it, ii the
Cold be troublefome. In Summ.er-time it paffes for folid
Wall, Ti. Every Thing here looks like Jewels; and here's a
wonderful pretty Scent. Eu. Above all Things, I love to
have my Houfe neat and fvv'eet, and both thefe may be with
little Coft. My Library has a little Gallery that looks into
the Garden, and there is a Chapel adjoining to it. Ti. The
Place itfelf deferves a Deity. Eu. Let us go now to thofe
three Walks above the other that you have feen, that look
into the Kitchen Garden. Thefe upper Walks have a Profpe£t
into both Gardens; but only by Windows v/ith Shutters; eP
pecially, in the Walls that have no Profpefl into the inner
Garden, and that's for the fafety of the Houfe. Here upon
the Left-hand, becaufe there is more Light, and fewer Win-
dov.'S, is painted the whole Life of Jefus, out of the Hiftory
of the four Evangelifts, as far as to the MifTion of the Holy
Ghoft, and the firft Preaching of the Apoftles out of the
A6ts; and 'here are Notes upon the Places, that the Sped:a«
tor may lee near what Lake, or upon what Mountain fuch or
fuch a Thing was done. There are alfo Titles to every Sto-t
ry, with an Abftrad of the Contents, as that of our Saviour,
J njoill. Be thou clean. Over againft it you have the Types
and Prophecies of the Old Teftament ; efpecially, out of the
Prophets and Pfilms, Vvhich are little elle but the Life of
Chriftand Apoftles related another way. Here I fometimeS
walk, difcourfmy; v^ith my jelf, and meditating upon the un-
fpeakable Counfel of God, in giving his Son for the Redemp-
tion of Mankind. Sometimes my Wife bears me Company,
or fomerimes a Friend that takes delight iji pious Things.
Ti. Who could be tired with this Houfe? E». Ko Bod^
C ^30 ]
that has learn'd to live by himfelf. Upon the upper Border
( as though not fit to be among the reft ) are all the Popes
Heads wirh their Titles^ and over againft them the Heads of
the defars, for the better taking in the Order of Hiftory.
At each Corner, there is a Lodging Room, where I can re-
pofe my felF, and have a Prufpe6t of my Orchard, and my
little Birds. Here, in the fartheft Nook of the Meadow, is
a litde Banquetting Houfe j there I fup fometimes in Sumirxer,
and I make life of it, as an Infirmary, if any of my Family
be taken ill, with any infedious Difeafe. 27. Some People
are of Opinion, that thofe Difeafes are not to be avoided.
Eu. Why then do Men fhun a Pit or Poifon ? Or do they
fear this the lefs, becaufe they don't fee it? No more is the
Poifon feen, that a Bafilisk darts from his Eyes. When
Neceffity calls for it, 1 would not ftick to venture my Life :
But to do it without any neceffity, is Ralhnefs. There are
fome other Things worth your feeing ^ but my Wife fliall
ftiew you them : Stay here this three Days if you pleafe, and
make my Houfe your Home j entertain your Eyes and your !
Minds, I have a little Bufinefs abroad : I muft ride out to
fome of the Neighbouring Towns. Ti. What, a Money
Bufinefs } Eu. I would not leave fuch Friends for the Sake
ol- receiving a little Money. Ti. Perhaps, you have appoint-
ed a hunting Match. Eu. It is a kind of Hunting indeed,]
but it is fomething elfe I hunt, than either Boars or Stags.
Ti. What is it then ? Eu. I'll tell you : I have a Friend in \
one Town lies dangeroufly ill ; the Phyfician fears his Life,
but I am afraid of his Soul : For I don't think he's fo well .
prepar'd for his End as a Chriftian fhould be : I'll go and j
give him fome pious Admonitions that he may be the better,
for, whether he lives or dies. In another Town there are
two Men bitterly at odds, they are no ill Men neither, but
Men of a very obftinate Temper. If the Matter fhould rife]
to a greater Height, I am afraid it would be of ill Confe-
quence to more than themfelves : I will do all I can in the |
World, to reconcile them^ they are both my Kinfmen.i
This is my hunting Match, and if I (hall have good Succefs i
in it, we'll drink their Healths. Ti. A very pious Hunting,
indeed i we pray heartily, that not Delia but ChriJ} would!
give you good Succefs. Eu. 1 had rather obtain this Prey,
than have two thoufand Ducats left me for a Legacy. Ti.
Will you come back quickly. Eu. Not till I have try'd]
every Thing; therefore, I can't fet a Time. In the mean!
Time, be as free with any Thing of mine, as though it wercj
your own, and enjoy your felves. Ti. God be with you,]
forward and backward.
TheJ
• t 131 ]
The Apotheofis of Qaptlo.
The Argument.
Canonizing^ or entrlng the Incomparahk Man^ John
ReucUn, into the Number of the Saints, teaches
how much Honour Is due to famous Men^ ivho have
hy their Indufiry improved the liberal Sciences.
None that has liv'd Well, dies 111.
POMP ILIU S, BRAS S ICJNUS.
7)0. Where have you been, with your Spatter- Lafhes ?
•^ Br. At Tup7iga. Po. Is there no News there? Br. I
can't but admire, that the World fhould run fo ftrangely a
gadding after News. I heard a Cartel preach at Lovam,
that we fhould have nothing to do with any Thing that is
new. To. Indeed, it is a Conceit fit for a Camel. Than
Man, (if he be a Man,J ought never to change his old
Shoes, or his Shirt, and always to feed upon ftale Eggs, and
drink nothing but four Wine. Br. But for all this, you mult
know, the good Man does not love old Things fo well, bac
that he had rather have his Porridge frefii than liale. Fo. No
more of the Camel; but prithee tell me, what News have
you.!^ Br. Nay, I have News in my Budget too; but News
which he fays is naughc. Fo. But that which is new, wrl be
old in time. Now if all old Things be good, and all new
Things be bad, then it follows of Confequence, that that which
is good at prcfent, has been bad heretofore, and that which ia
now bad, will in Time come to be good. Er. According to
the Dodrine of the Camel, it mult be fo ; and therefore,
hence it follows, that he that Vv'as a young wicked Fool
in Time paft, becaufe he was new, will come to be a good
One, becaufe he is grown old. Fo. But prithee, let's have
the News, be it what it will. Br. The famous triple-
tongu'd Phoenix of hQzmxng, John 'ReucUn, is departed this
Life. Fo. For certain ? Br. Nay, it is too certain. Po.
Why, pray, what Harm is that, for a Man to leave an im-
mortal Memory of a good Name and Reputation behind
him, and to pafs out of this miferable World, into the So-
K 3 ciety
ciety of the BlefTed? Br. How do you know that to be
the Cafe. Po. It is plain, for he can't die otherwife, who
has liv'd as he did, Br. You would fay fo, indeed, if you
knew what I know. Po. What's that, I pray. Br. No,
no, I mult not tell you. Fo. Why fo } Br. Becaufe he that
encrufted me with the Secret, made me promife Silence.
Po. Do you entruft me with it upon the fame Condition,
and, upon m.y honeft Word, I'll keep Counfel. Br. That
honed Word has often deceived me ^ but however, I'll ven-
ture^ efpecially, it being a Matter of that Kind, that it is fit
all honeft Men fhould know ir. There is at Tt/hinge, a cer-
tain Francifcan, a Man accounted offingular Holinefs in every
Bodies Opinion but his own. Po. That you mention, is the
greatcft Argument in the World of true Piety. Br. If I
iiiould tell you his Name, you'd % as much, for you know
the Man. Fo. What if I fhall guels at him? Br. Do, if you
will. Po. Hold your Ear then. Br. What needs that, when
here's no Body within Hearing? Fo. But however, for Fa-
fhion Sake. Br. 'Tis the very fame. Po. He is a Man of
undoubted Credit. If he fays a Thing, it is to me, as true
as the Gofpel. Br. Mind me then, and I'll give you the
naked Truth of the Story. My Friend Rcuclin was (ick, in-
deed very dangeroufly j but yet, there vvas iome Hopes of
his Recovery ^ he was a Man .worthy never to grow old,
be fick, or die, One Morning I went to vifit my Francif"
can, that he might eafe my Mind of my Trouble by his Dif-
courfe. For when my Friend was fick, I \w^s fick too, for I
lov'd him as my own Father. Po. Phool There's no Body but
lov'dhim, except he were a very bad Man indeed. Br. My
Francifcan fays to me, Brajjicanus, leave off grieving, our
Beuclin is well. What, faid I, Is he well all on a fudden then ?
For but two Days ago, the Dodors gave but little Hopes of
him. Then, fays he, he h fo well recover'd, that he will ne-
ver be fick again. Don't weep, fays he, (for he faw the
Tears {landing in my Eyes) before you have heard the Ma:-
ter out. I have not indeed feen the Man this fix Days, but:
I pray for him conftandy every Day that goes over my Head.
This Morning after Mattins, I laid my felf upon my Couch,
■ and fell into a gende pleafant Slumber. Po. My Mind pre-
fages fbme joyful Thing. Br. You have no bad Guefs with you.
Methoughts, fays he, I was ftanding by a little Bridge, that leads
into a wonderful pleafant Meadow ; the emerald Verdure of
the Grafs and Leaves affording fuch a charming Profpedl j the
infinite Beauty, and Variety of the Flowers, like little Stars,
were fo delightful, and every thing fo fragrant, that all the Fields
on this Side the Rivetj by which that blefTed Field was divided
3 ' ' from
C ^3?^ ]
from the reft, feem'd neither to grow, nor to be green ; but
look'd dead, blafted, and withered. And in the Interim,
while I was wholly taken up with the Profped, Reuclin, as
good Luck would have it, came by ; and as he paft by, gave
me his Bleffing in Hebrew. He was gotten half Way over
the Bridge before I perceived him, and as I was about to run
to him, he iook'd back, and bid me keep off You mull:
not come yet, fays be, but five Years hence, you flial! follow
me. In the mean Time, do you ftand by a Spedacor, and
a Witnefs of what is done. Here I put in a Word, fays I,
was 'Reuclin naked, or had he Cloaths on \ was he alone, or
bad he Company } He had, fays he, but one Garment, and
that was a very white one j you would have faid, it had been
a Damask, of a wonderful fhining Whire, and a very pretty
Boy with Wings followed him, v/hich I took to be his good
Genius, Vo. But had he no evil Genius v/idi him ? Br.
Yes, the Francifcan told me, he thought he had. For there
followed him a great Way off, fome Birds, that were all over
Black, except, that when they fpread their Wings, they
feem'd to have Feathers, of a Mixture of white and carnation.
He faid, that by their Colour and Cry, one might have taken
them for Magpies, but that they \yere fixteen Times as big j
about the Size of Vultures, having Combs upon their Heads,
with crooked Beaks and Gor-bellies. If there had been but three -
of them, one would have takenthem for Harpyes. Vo. And
what did thefe Devils attempt to do } Br. They kept at a
Diftance, chattering and fqualling at the Hero Reuclin, and
were ready to fet upon him, if they durft. Po. What hin-
dred them ? Br. Turning upon them, and making the Sign
of theCrofs with his Hand at them, he faid. Be gone ye curfed
Fiends to a Place that's fitter for you. You have PVork e7iough
to do a7nong Mortals, your Madnefs has no Power over vte,
that am no-w lified in the Roll of Immortality, The Words
were no fooner out of his Mouth, fays the Francifcan, but
thele filthy Birds took their Flight, but left fuch a Stink behind
them, that a Houfe of Office would have feem'd Oyl of
fweec Marjoram, or Ointment of Spikenard to it. He
fvvore, he had rather go to Hell, than fnufFup fuch a Perfume
again. Po. A Curfe upon thefi Pefts. Br. Bat, hear what
the Francifcan told me befides : While I was intent upon theie
Things, fays he, St. Jerome was com.e clofe to the Bridge,
and faluted Reuclin in thefe Words, God fave thee, ujy mofi
holy Covtpa7iion, I am ordered to conduB thee to the Manjions
of the hleffed Souls above, 'which the div'me Bounty has appoint->
ed thee as a Reward for thy mofl pious Labours. With that
he took out a Garment, and put it upon Reuclin. Then,
■ K I faid
[ 134 ]
faid L tell me in what Habit or Form St. Jeroim appear'd,
was he fo old a,-; they paint him ? Did he wear a Cowl or a
Kat, or the Garb of a Cardinal ? or had he a Lion by his
Side? Nothing of all thefe, faid hej but his Perfon was
comely, which made his Age appear (uch as carried in it
much Cooilinefsj but no Deformity. What need had he
to have a Lion by his Side, as he is' commonly painted ?
His Gown came down to his Heels, as tranfparent as Cry-
ftal, and of the fame Faflvion of that he gave to 'ReucUn. It
was all over painted with Tongues of three feveral Colours j
Ibme imitated Rubies, fonae Emeralds, and others Sapphires ;
and beHdethe Ciearnefs of it, the Order fet it off very much.
To. An Intimation, I fuppofe, of the three Tongues that he
profefs'd. Br. Without doubt: For he laid, that upon the
very Borders of the Garments were the Charat^lers of thefe
three Languages infcrib'd in their different Colours. To.
Had Jerome no Company with him? Br. No Company,
do you fay ? The whole Field fwarm'd with Myriads of An-
gel?, that fiil'd the Air as thick, as thofe litde Corpufcles they
call Atoms, fly in the Sun Beams j pardon the Meannefs of
, the Comparifon. If they had not been as tranfparent as
Glais', there v;culd have been no Heaven nor Earth to have
been feen. Vo. O brave, I am glad with all my Heart, for
HeucJin's Sake; but what followed? Br. Jerome, (fays hej
for Honours Sake, giving TeucUn the Right-hand, and em-
bracing him, conducts him into the Meadow, and up a Hill
that Vv'as in the middle of it, where they kifs'd and embrac'd
one another again : In the mean time, the Heavens open'd
over their Heads to a prodigious Widenefs, and there ap-
pear'd a Glory (b unutterable, as made every Thing elfe,
that pals'd for wonderful before, to look mean and fordid.
To. Can't you give us fome Reprcfentation of it ? Br. No,
how fnould I, that did not fee it ? He who did fee it, fays,
that he was not able to exprefs the very Dream of it. He
faid, he would die a thoufand Deaths to fee it over again, if
ic were but for one Moment. To. How then? Br. Out of
this Overture of the Heavens, there was let down a great
Pillar of Fire that was tranfparent, and of a very pleafant
Form: By this the two holy Souls were carried into Heaven,
in one anothers Embraces j a Choir of Angels all the while
accompanying them, with fo charming a Melody, that the
Franc ifcan fays, he is never able to think of the delight of it
without weeping. And after this there foUow'd a wonderful
fragrant Smell. When he waked out of his Dream, if you
will call it a Dream, he was juft like a mad Man. He
would not believe he was in his Cell j he called for his Bridge
and
[ "35 ]
and his Meadowy he could not fpeak or think of any Thin?
elfe but them. The Seniors of the Convent, when they
found the Story to be no Fable, for it is certain that Reuc/m
dy'd at the very Inftant that the holy Man had this Vifion,
they unaninmoully gave Thanks ro God, that abundantly re-
wards good Men for their good Deeds. Po. What have we
to do, but to fet down this holy Man's Name in the Calendar
of Saints ? Br. I fhould have done that if the Francifcan had
feen nothing at all of this, and in Gold Letters too, FU aflure
you, next to St. Jerome himfelf. Vo. And let me die if I
don't put hln:i down in my Book fo too. Br. And befides
that, ril fet him in Gold in my litde Chapel, among the
choicefl: of my Saints. Vo, And if I had a Fortune to my
Mind, Fd have him in Diamonds. Br. He fhall ftand in my
Library, the very next to St. Jerome. Po. And FU have
him in mine too. Br. If they were grateful, every one who
loves Learning and Languages, efpecially, the holy Tongues,
would do fo too. Po. Truly it is no more than he deferves.
But han't you fome Scruple upon your Mind, in as much as
he. is not yet canoniz'd by the Authority of the Bifhop of
Rome ? Br. Why, pray, who canoniz'd ( for that's the
Word) St. Jerome? Who canoniz'd St. Paul, or the Virgin
31ary ? Pray tell me whofe Memory is molt facred among
all good Men.? Thofe that by their eminent Piety, and the
Monuments of their Learning and good Life, have entitled
themfelves to the Veneration of all Menj or Catharine of
Sien, that was fainted by Pius the Second, in Favour of the
Order and the City.? Po You lay true; That's the right
Worfliip, that by the Will of Heaven, is paid to the Merits
of the Dead, whofe Benefits are always fenfibly felt. Br. 7\.nd
can you then deplore the Death of this Man ? If long Life
be a Bleiling, he enjoy'd it. Fie has left behind him immor-
tal Monuments of his Vertue, and by his good Works, con-
fecrated his Name to Immortality. He is now in Heaven,
out of the reach of Misfortunes, converfing wiih St. Jero7f2&
himfelf Po. But he fufper'd a great deal tho' in his Life.
Br. But yet St. Jerome fufFered more. It is a Blefling to be
perfecuted by wicked Men for being good. Po. I confefs
fo, and St. Jerome fuflPer'd many unworthy Things from the
worft of Men, forthebeftof Deeds. Br. That which Satan
did formerly by the Scribes and Pharifees againft the Lord
Jefus, he continues ftill to do by pharifaical Men, againft good
Mea, who have deferved well from the World by their
Studies. He now reaps the blefled Harveft of the Seed he
has been fowing. In the mean Time, it will be our Duty,
to preferve his Memory facred j to honour his Name, and to
K 4 addref
[ '3n
addrefs him often in fome fuch Msnner as follows^ O holy
Soulj be rhou propinous to Languages, and to thcfe that
cultivate them: Favour the ho!; Tongues, and deftroy evil
Tongues that are infedcd wirh the Poifon of Hell. Fo. I'll
do'r wv felh and earreftly periuade all my Friends to do it.
I make no Qiieltion buc there will be thofe that will defire
to have omc little Form of Prayer, according to Cuftom, to
celebrate the Memory of ihis moft holy Hero. Br Do you
mean chat whicii rhf^y c^^ll a Colledt ? Po. Yes. Br. I have
one ready, that I provided before his Death. Po. I pray
let's hear it. Br. O God, chat art the Lover of Mankind,
that haft by thy chofen Servant John Reuclin, renew'd to
Mankind the Gift of Tongues, by which thy holy Spirit from
above, did formerly furniih thy Apoftles for their Preaching
the Gofpeli grant that all People may every where, in all
Languages, preach the Glory of thy Son Jelus Chrift, to the
confounding ot the Tongues offalfe Apoftles ^ who being in a
Confederacy to uphold the impious Tower of Babeh endea-
vour to obfcure thy Glory, and to advance their own, when
to thee alone, together with thy only Son Jefus Chrift .our
Lord, and the holy Spirit, is due all Glory to eternal Ages.
Amen. Fo. A moft elegant and holy Prayer. As I live, it
fhall be mine daily. And I account this a happy Opportu-
nity, that has brought me to the Knowledge of fo joyful a
Story. Br. Mayft thou long enjoy that Comfort, and fo
farewel. Fo. Fare-you-well too. Br. I will fare welL but
not be a Cook, [i]
[j] £ra/5Kas here plays on the Similitude in Sound, and Difference in Sen/e,
of the two Words, quoque, alfo j and Coce^ the vocative Cafe of Coquus, a
Cooki
A Lo-
[ ^iy-i
A Lover and Maiden.
The Argument.
^bis Colloquy prefents you with a •very chajie Wooing^
mingling many philofophical Notions with pleafant
Jokes. Of not being hafiy in marrying -, of chu"
fingy not only for the Sake of the outward Perfon^
but the inward Endowments of the Mind j of the
Firmnefs of Wedlock j of not contra^ing Matrimony
without the Confent of Parents j of living chajily
in Matrimony ; of hinging up Children pioujly j
that the Soul is not where it animates^ but where
it loves. 'The Defcription of a deformed Man. That
(Vedlock is to he preferfcl before a ftngle Life^ and
is not^ as it is vulgarly called^ a Halter, That we
muji not confult our Jffe^ions fo much as Reafon.
PAMPHILUS and MA RY.
P,4. Good Morrow, Madam, cruel, hard Heart, inflexi-
ble. Ma. Good Morrow to you too, Mr. Pajnphilusy
as often, and as much, and by what Names you pleafc ; But
you feem to have forgotten- my Name, 'tis Mary. Pa. It
Ihould rather have been Martia. Ma. Why fo, pray, what
is Mars to me } Fa. Becaufe juft as Mars makes a Sport of
killing Men, fodoyou j faving that you do it the more cruelly
of the two, becaufe you kill one that loves you. Ma. Say
you fo ! pray where's the great Slaughter of Men that I have
made } Where's the Blood of the Slain ? Ta. You may fee
one dead Corpfe before your Face, if you look upon me.
Ma. What rtrange Story is this } Does a dead Man talk and
walk } I wifh I may never meet with more frightful Ghofts
than you are. Fa. Ay, indeed, you make a Jeft of it; but
for all that, you kill poor me, and more cruelly too, than if
you ftuck a Dagger in my Breaft. For now I, poor Wretch
as I am, die a lingering Death. Ma. Prithee tell me, how
many Women with Child have mifcarried at the Sight of
thee ? Fa. My Palenefs fhews I have no more Blood in my
Body than a Ghoft, Ma. Indeed you are as pale as a Violet:
You
[ 138 ]
You are as pale as a ripe Cherry, or purple Grape. Ta,
You coquet in with my Mifery, Ida. If you can't Delieve me,
look in the Glafs. Pa. I would never desire a better Glafs*
nor do I believe there is a better in the World than I am a
looking in already. Ma. What.-; -Looking -Glafs do you
mean ? Pa. Your Eyes. Ma. You Banterer ! that's like
you. But hovs? do you prove your felf to be dead ? Do
dead Folks eat ? Pa. Yes, they do j but Things that have
no Reliih, as I do? Ma. What do they feed upon? Pa.
Mallows, Leeks, and Lupines. 31a. But you feed upon Ca-
pons and Partridges. Pa. If I do, I relifh them no more than
Beets without Pepper or Vinegar. Ma. Poor Creature ! but
yet, you're in pretty good Cafe, for all that. And do dead
■Folks talk roo.? Pa. Juft as I do, with a weak Voice. Ma.
But when I heard you rallying your Rival a little while ago,
your Voice was not very low then. But, prithee, do Ghofts
v/alk, wear C oaths, and ileep ? Pa. Yes, and enjoy one
another too, after their Manner. Ma. Thou art a merry
Fellow. Pa. But what will you fay, if I prove it by unde-
niable Arguments, that I am dead, and that you have kill'd
me too. Ma God forbid, Pamphilus, but let's hear your
Arguments, however. Pa In the ftrft Place, I think you
'will grant me this, that Death is only a Separation of Soul
and Body. Ma. I grant it. Pa. But you muft grant it Co,
as not to ear your Words. Ma. No, I will not. Pa. You '
will not deny, (I fuppofoj that the Perfon that takes away -
another's Life, is a Murtherer. Ma. I grant that too. Fa.
I fuppole you will grant that which 'has been allow'd by
the greatefl Men of many Ages, that the Soul of a Man j
is not really where it animates, but where it loves. Ma. ',
Make that a little plainer, I can't well underftand it then.
.Fa. You might as well bid me make an Adamant fenfible
of it. Ma. i am a Maid, not a Stone. Pa. 'Tis true, but
harder than an Adamant Stone. Ma. Go on with your
"Inferences. Pa. Thofe that are in a Trance, do neither
hear, nor fee, nor fmell, nor feel, if you kill them out-
right. Ma. Indeed I have heard fo. Pa. What do you
think is the Reafon? Ma. Do you, Philofophfer, tell that.
Fa. Becaufe their Mind is in Heaven, where it enjoys what
it dearly loves j and therefore is abfent from the Body. M<i.
Well, what then.? Pa. What then, hard-hearted Creature?
Then it follows, that I am dead, and you have killed me.
Ma. Where is your Soul then ? Pa. Where it loves. Ma.
Who took this Soul of yours away ? What do you Sigh
for? Tell me freely: There's no hurt in it. Pa. A cruel
Maid, that I could not be angry with if flie kill'd me out-
right.
[ ^9 ]
r\oht. Ma. You're very good humour'd j but why don't you
take her Soul from her too;, and pay her in her own Coin,
according to the old Proverb. Fa. I fliould be the happieft
Man in the World, if I could make that Exchange, that her
Heart would pals as wholly into my Breaft, as mine has into
hers. Ma. But may I play the Sophifter with you now.^
Ta. The Sophiftrefs. Ma. Can one and the fame Body be
both alive and dead ? Pa. Not at the fame Time. Ma. Is
the Body dead, when the Soul is out of it ? Pa. Yes. Ma.
Nor does it animate it, but when it is in it } Pa. No, ic
does not. Ma. How comes it to pafs then, that when it is
there where it loves, it yet animates the Body it is gone out
of? And if it animates when it loves any where, how is that
called a dead Body which it animates.? Pa. Indeed, you
aroue very cunningly, but you fhan't catch me there. That
Soul, which after fome Sort governs the Body of the Lover,
is but improperly cali'd a Soul, when it is but fome fmall
Remains of the Soulj juft as the Smell of a Rofe remains
in the Hand, when the Rofe is gone. Ma. I fee it is a liard
Matter to catch a Fox in a Trap. But anfwer me this
Queftion, does not the Perfon that kills, ad. Pa. Yes. Ma,
And does not he fuffer who is kill'd ? Pa. Yes. Ma. And
how comes it about then, that when he that loves, ads, and
fhe that is lov'd, fufFers, flie that is lov'd rtiould be faid to
kill, when he that loves, rather kills himfelf ? Pa. Nay, on
the contrary, 'tis he that loves that fuffers, and llie is lov'd,
that ads. [i] Ma. You will never prove that by all your
Grammar. Pa. Well, I'll prove it by Logic then. [2] Ma.
But do fo much as anfwer me this one Qi-ieftion, do you
love voluntarily, or againil your Will.? Pa. Voluntarily.
Ma. Then fmce a Perfon is at Liberty, whether he will love
or no j he that does love, is guilty of felo de fe, and ac-
ciifes a Maid wrongfully. Pa. A Maid does not kill in being
lov'd, but in not loving again. He is guilty of killing, that
can fave and don't fave. Ma. What if a young Man iliould
fall into an unlawful Love, as fuppofe with another Man's
[i] Arecpagkas Grammaticos.] .Areopagus in Athens, was the Town or Hil!
afMars, in which affembled the ^w/a^//«, or Judges in capital Cafes: So
that Areopagite Grammarians, were exa<St and accurate Grammarians, who con-
iidered all Words and Things accurately, as they did who were Judges in capi-
tal Cafes.
[2] Amphiaiones DiakBim.'\ The AmphiElions were the Ambaffadors of the
ten Cities of Greece that met at the Tbermopyla: to concert Mealures for the Be-
aefit ofthe whole Community.
Wife,
[ HO ]
Wife, or a [i] Veftal Virgin? Mufl: fhe love him again, to
fave the Lover? Pa. But the young Man, meaning my
felf, loves one whom he ought to love, and by right and good
Reafon, and yet am murthered. If Murther be a light Mat-
ter, I could indid you for Witchcraft too. Ma. God forbid,
do you make a [2] Circe of me ? Fa. You are more bar-
barous than Circe herfelf, I had rather be a Hog or a Bear,
than as I now am, half dead. Ma. By what Sort of En-
chantments do I kill Men ? Va. [3] By the Witchcraft of
your Eyes. Ma. Would you .have me take ray noxious
Eyes off of you then ? Ta. No, by no Means, rather look
more upon me. Ma. If my Eyes are fo infedtious, how
comes it about they don't throw others I look upon into a
Confumption too? I therefore rather believe the Infection is
in your own Eyes than mine. Va. Is it not enough for you
to kill poor Tamphilus, but you muft infult him too. Ma.
O pretty dead Creature! but when muft I come to your
Funeral. Ta. Sooner than you think for, if you don't re-
lieve me. Ma. Can I perform fuch a wonderful Cure ? Pa.
You can raife a dead Man to Life again with the greateft
Eafe imaginable. Ma. Ay, if I had the Grand-Elixir. Ta.
You have no need of any Medicine, do but love me again.
And what's eafier than that? Nay, what's morejuft? You
can no other Way in the World get clear of the Crime of
Murther. Ma. In what Court muft I be try'd ? In the Court
of Chancery. Ta. No, in the Court of Venus. Ma. They
fay, flie is a very merciful Goddefs. Ta. Nay, the moft
levere in the World. Ma. Has fhe any Thunderbolts? Ta.
No. Ma. Has fhe got a Trident ? Ta. No. Ma. Has fhe
got a Spear? Ta. No j but fhe is the Goddefs of the Sea.
Ma. But I don't go to Sea. Ta. But fhe has a Son. Ma.
Youth is not very formidable. Ta. But he is very revengeful
and refolute. Ma. What will he do to me? Pa. What
will he do? That which I can't wifti to be done to one
I willi fo well to. God forbid I fhould. Ma. Tell me
what it is, for I an't afraid to hear it. Ta. Well, I'll
tell you then , if you flight me that love you, and am no
[i] Virginem Fefiakm.'] A Veftal Virgin was one of thofe that by their Of-
fice and Vow were never to have to do with a Man, and if they did, they were
to be buried alive ; and therefore it was unlawful to have to do with them, as
with another Man's Wife.
[a] Circe.] A famous Enchantrefs in the Poets, jji-ho turn'd Ulyjfn\ Com-
panions into Hogs and Bears.
[3] Fafcim.] A Sort of Venom, which is faid to be in the Eyes, not much
iiffereiit irom that which is commonly attributed to the BafiUJk^
Way
[ •4« 1
Way unworthy of your Love j I fhall be mlich miftaken
if he don't: by his Mother's Order flioot you with a veno-
mous Dart, and nniake y.ou fall deeply in Love with fomc
forry Fellow or other, that would not love you again. J\da.
That's a moil horrid Punifhmeni: indeed. I had rather die
a thoufand Deaths than to be fo bitterly in love with an ugly
Man, and one that won't love me neither. Pa. But we had a
notable Example of this not long fince upon a certain Maid.
JMa. Where didlhe live? Pa. AtOrleafif. Ma. How many
Years ago was it ? Pa. How many Years ! not ten Months.
jyla. What was her Name.' What do you ftick at. Pa.
Nothing at all, I know her as well as I know you. Ma.
Why don't you tell me her Name then. Pa. Becaufe I am
afiaid it is ominous. I wifh fhe had been of fome other
Name. She was your own Namefake. Ma. Who was her
Father? ^a. Her Father is alive at this Time, and is a
topping Lawyer, and a rich Man. Ma. Tell me his Name.
Pa. Mauritius. Ma. His Sirname. Pa. Aglaius. Ma. Is her
Mother alive ? Pa. No, fhe died lately. Ma. What did flie
die of, fay you ? Pa. Why of Grief, and it had like to have
coft her Father his Life too, for all he was a Man of a ftrong
Conftiturion. Ma. Mayn't a Body know her Mother's
Name ? Pr. Yes, Sophrona, every Body knows her Name.
What do you mean by that Qjeftion ? Do you think I in-
vent a Lye ? Mj. Why fhould I think fo of you ? Our Sex
is moft to be faipeded for that. But tell me what became of.
the Maid? P^;. The Maid, as 1 told you before, came of very ho-
neft Parents, had a good Fortune, was very handfome, and in
few Words, was a Match for a Prince j a certain Gen-
tleman ot an equal Fortune courted her. Ma. What was
his Name ? Pa. Ah me, I can't bear the Thoughts of ii, his
Name was Farr.pHlus as well as mine. He try'd all the
Ways in the World to gain her good Will ^ but fhe
flighted all his Offers. The young Man pines away with
Grief. Prefently a'ter fiie fell deep in Love with one
more like an Ape than a Man. Ma. How! Pa. Ay, fo
wretchedly in Love, that 'tis impoffible to relate it. Ma.
fuch a pretty Maid to fall in Love with fuch an ugly
Fe'.low? Pa. Ay, with a long-vifag'd, fcald-headed, bald-
pated, hoUow-ey'd, fnub-nos'd, wide-mouth'd , rotton-
tooth'd, fluttering, fcabby-bearded, hump-back'd, gor-belly'd,
bandy-legg'd Fellow. Ma. You tell me of a mere Therfi-
tes. Pa. Nay, they faid he had but one Ear, neither. Ma.
It may be he had loft the other in the War. Pa.
No, he loft it in Peace. Ma. Who dar'd to cut it ofK
Pa. Jack Ketch, Ma. It may be his Riches made amends.
PaZ
C 14^ ]
Fa. Over Head and E&rs in Debt. And with this Husband
this charming Girl now fpends her Days, and is now and
then drubb'd into the Bargain. Ma. That is a miferable Story
indeed. Va. Bat it is a true one. It is a juft Retaliation
upon her, for flighting the young Gentleman. Ma. I (hould
rather chufe to be thunder-ftruck than ty'd to endure fuch a
Husband. Fa. Then don't provoke Juftice, but love him
that loves you. Ma. Well, if that will do, I do love you
again. Fa. Ay, but I would have that Love conftant as
mine own. I court a Wife, net a Miftrefs. Ma. I fup-
pofe fo, but yet we ought to be very deliberate in that
which being once done, can never be undone again. Fa,
I have been deliberating too long already. Ma. Love is none
of the beft Advifers ^ fee that he han't impos'd upon you,
for they fay he is blind. Fa. But that Love has Eyes in
his Head, that proceeds from Judgment ^ you don't appear fo
amiable, only becaufe I love you, but you are really fo, and
therefore I love you. Ma. But perhaps you don't knov/
me thoroughly. When once a Shoe is on, then you'll
know where it pinches. Fa. I'll venture it, but L gather
from many Conjectures, that it will be happy for me. Ma.
What, are you an Augur then? Fa. Yes, lam. Ma.Vrzy
by what Auguries do you prognofticate all this ? What,
hath the Night Owl appear'd luckily ? Fa. She flies for
Fools. Ma. Did you fee a pair of Pigeons on your right
Hand ? Fa. Nothing of all this. But have for fome
Years been fatisfy'd of the Honefty of your Father and
Mother; and in the firfl Place, that's no bad Sign. Nor
am I ignorant how modeftly and religioufly you have
been brought up by them, and it is a greater Advantage to
be honeftly educated, than honourably born. And then
there's another good Circumftance befides, that as my Parents
are none of the worft, fo yours and mine have been very
intimate for many Years, and you and I have known one
another from our very Childhood, as they ufe to fay ; and
befides all this, our Humours agree very well together. Our
Age, Fortunes, Quality, and Parentage are pretty equal.
And laft of all, that which is the chief Thing in Friend-
ftiip, your Temper feems to agree very well with mine.
There are fome Things that may be very good in themfelves
that may not agree with others. How acceptable my Temper
may be to yours, I don't know. Thefe are the Auguries,
my Dear, that make me prognofticate that a Marriage be-
tween you and me would be happy, lafting, comfortable
and pleafant, unlefs you fhall prevent it by a Denial. Ma.
jyhac would you have me fay ? Fa. I will fing I am thine
firft.
[ 143 1
firft, and you fiiall fing I am th'me afer me. Ma. That m^
deed is but a lliorc Song, but it has a long Chorus. Va.
What fignifies it how long it is, fo it be a merry one.
Me. I have that refped: for you, I would not have you
do what you fliould repent of when done. Va. Leave ofF
teaming me. Ma. Perhaps I fhall not appear fo amiable in
your Eye, when Age or Sicknefs have fpoil'd my Beauty.
P<7. No more, my Dear, fliall I my felf be always fo young
and lufty. f dont only look at that blooming, lovely Bo-
dy of yours, but it is your Gueft within it I am moft in
love with. Ma. What Gueft do you mean ? ?a. ThisScul
of yours, whofe Beauty will grow as Years increafe. Ma.
In Truch you have a very penetrating Sight, if you can fee
that through fo many Coverings. Va. It is with the Eyes of
my Mind that I fee your Mind, and then befides we fliall
be ever and anon renewing our Age by our Children. Ma.
But then I Hiall lofe my Maidenhead. P«. Right enough ;
but prithee tell me, if you had a fine Orchard, would you
rather chufe never to have nothing but BIofToms on the
Trees ^ or would you rather, that the Bloflbms fliould fall
off, and fee the Boughs laden with ripe Apples ? Ma.
Oh, how cunningly you can argue ! Va. Annver me but
this one Queftion, which is the fineft Sight, a Vine lying
along upon the Ground and rotting, or tv/ining round a
Stake or an Elm-Tree, loaden with ripe Grapes of a curious
purple Colour } Ma. And pray do you anfwer me this
Queftion j which is the moft pleafant Sight, a Rofe frefh.
and fair upon the Tree, or one gathered and withering
in the Hand ? Va. I look upon that the happier Rofe
that dies in a Man's Hand ; there delighting the Sight
and Smell, than that which withers away upon the Buili,
for it would die there , if it v/ere let alone. As that
Wine has the moft Honour done it j that is drnnk be-
fore it grows dead : Though this is to be faid, that the
Flower of a Maid does not prefently fade, as foon as fhe is
married : Nay, I have feen a great many, that before Marri-
age look'd pale and languid, and juft as if they were drop-
ping into the Ground: but having been in the Embraces of
a Husband, they ^-e brightened up, juft as if they juft then
began to bloom. 'f-MIs?. But for all that, a Maidenhead is ac-
counted a fine Thing. Va. A young Virgin is indeed a pret-
ty Thing : But what's more monftrous, than an old
Maid "> If your Mother had not fiied that Blofforo, we
fliould never have had this fine Flower, your'clf. And
if we don't make a barren Match, as I hope we flian'r,
there will be never a Maid the lels for us. Ma. But
they
[ 144 ]
they fay Chaftity is very well pleafing to God. Pa. And
for that Reafon I would marry a chafte Maid, that I may
live chaftly v/ith her. The Union of Minds will be more
than that of Bodies. We'll ^et Subjtfts for the King, and
Servants for Chrift, and where will the Urch^fluy of this
Matrimony be ? And who can tell but we may live together
like _7q/2/).^ and Mary? And in the ^ mean time, we'll learn to
be Virgins, we don't arrive at Fcrfe6t;on ail at once. Ma.
What do you ta'k of ? Is Virginity to be violated, that it
may be learned? Pa. Why not .? As by little and iirtle
drinking Wine fparingly, we learn to be abftemious. Which
do you think is the molt temperate Perlon, he that is fitting ac
a Table full of Delicacies, and abflains from them, or he who
is out of the Reach of thofe Things that incite Ini em perance?
Ma. I think he is the mod temperate Perfon, that the greateft
Plenty can't debauch. Pa. Which is the moft laudable for
Chaftity, he that caftrates himlelf, or he that having his
Members entire, forbears Venery ? Ma. The latter, in my
Opinion : I ihould call the former a Madman. J\Ia. Don'c
they in a manner caftrate themfelves, that abjure Matrimo-
ny ? Ma. I think they do. Pa. Then it is no Virtue to for-
bear Coition. Ma. Is it not ? Pa. I prove it thus ^ if it
were of icielf a Virtue not to copulate, it were a Sin to
do it : fo that it follows of Confequence, ir is a Fault not
to copulate, and a Virtue to do it. Ma. When does this
Cafe happen } Ma. As often as the Husband requires his
due of his Wife ; efpecially if he would embrace her for
the Sake of Procreation. Ma. But if it be out of Wanton-
nefs ? Is it not lawful to deny him ? Pa. He may be ad*
moniih'd or diiluaded by foft Language to forbear j but if
he infifts upon it, he ought not to be refus'd . But I hear very
few Husbands complain of their Wives upon this Account.
Ma. But Liberty is a very fweet Thing. Fa. Virginity is
rather a great i3urthen. I will be your King, and you
fhall be my Queen, and we'll govern the Family accord-
ing to our Plealure : And do you think that a Bondage ?
Ma. Marriage is called a Halter. Pa. They deierve a Hal-
ter that call it fo. Pray tell me, is not your Soul and Bo-
dy bound together ? Ma. Yes, I thinjjgj^ey are. Pa. Juil
like a Bird in a Cage j and ycr, ask it a5|c would be freed
from it, I believe it will fay, no : And What's the Reafon
of that ? Beca.ife it is bound by its own Confent. Ma.
But we have neither of us got much of Portion, la.
We are the fafer for that, you fliali add to it at Home
by good Houfewifciy, and that is not wuhout good Kealon,
laid
[ '45 ]
/aid to be a great Revenue^ and I'll increafe it abroad by my
Tnduftry. Ma. Bat Children bring a great many Cares along
with them. Fa. And they bring a great many Comforts too,
and oftentimes repay their Parents Tendernefs with much
Intereft. Ma. It is a grievous thing to bury one's Children.
Ta. Why, you have none now, have you ? What need
is there of troubling our felves with that we don't know
will be or not ? Pray, tell me, had you rather not be born
at all, or to be born mortal ? Ma. Why, indeed, I had ra-
ther be born mortal, than not to be born at all. Fa. And
fo that Deflitutenefs is the mod miferable, that never has
had Children, nor ever will have j as thofe are happier that
have liv'dj than thofe that have not, nor ever will. Ma. Who
are they that never have been, nor ever {hall be born ?
Va. Although he that rcfufes to bear the Chance of Fortune,
which all are equally liable to, whether we be Kings or
Commoners, mult go out of the World j yet, whatfoever iliall
happen, you fhall bear but Half of it, I'll take the greateft
Half upon my felf ^ and if any Thing happen of Felicity,
the Pieafure will be double ; if any Infelicity, Society will
take away one Half of the Uneafineis of it : And as for me, if
it fliould be my Fate, it would be a Pieafure to me, to die in
your Embraces. Ma. Men can bear the Misfortunes that hap-
pen according to the common Courfe of Nature better than Wo-
men j but I fee what a great deal of Grief Children bring to
fome Parents by their Manners, more than following them to
the Grave. Fa. To prevent that, lies pretty much in ouf
own Power. Ma. How fo ? Fa. Becauie as to Difpofi-
tion, good Parents commonly have good Children. Fot
Doves don't bring Kites -. Therefore, we will do our Endea-
vour to be good our felves, and then take Care to inftruct
our Children in Religion and Piety from the very Cradle.
It is of great Moment what is firfl: infufed into them j and
befides, we will take Care that at Home they may have good
Examples of Life to imitate. Ma. That you talk of, is ve-
ry hard to be done. Fa. It is hard, becaufe it is good,
and for the fame Reafon, you are hard to be got ; bat
then we'll endeavour the more induftrioufly. Ma. You will
find me eafy to be wrought upon : Do you fee that yoa
form and model me. Fa. But only fay three Words. Ma-
That is a very eafy Matter j but Words when they are once
out, can't be called in again. I'll give you Counfcl, that lliall
be better than that for both of us. Do you treat with both
our Parents, that it may be done with their Confent. Fa. You
bid me go a great way about, and you may fatisty me in three
Wwds. Ma, I can't tell whether I can or no j I an'c at my
L own
[ H-J ]
own Dirpofal. It was the Caftom in old Time to have the
Confent of Parents. The Match in my Opinion is like to
be the more happy, fF we have our Parents Confent to it.
It is vour Bufmefs to court, it is not handfome for us to do
ic. We N4aids love to be forc'd, though fometimes we
love with the ftrongeft PaflTion. Pa. I fhan't think much to
court, if you your felf won't fruftrate my Endeavours. Ma.
I promife you, I won't, ray Tamph'dus ^ don't be difcourag'd.
Ta. I wifli you were not fo fcrupulous. Ma. Do you firft
endeavour to know your own Mind thoroughly, and don't
be govern'd by your Paffion, but by Reaf^n, The Paflion
of Love is but temporary j but what proceeds from Reafon
is lafting. Va. In truth, you play the Philofopher very pret-
tily, and therefore I'll follow your Advice. Ma. You won't
repent of your Condefcencion. But, hark ye though, here's
one Scruple comes into my Mind, that I can't well get over.
Ta. Have done with Scruples. Ma. Would you have me
marry la dead Man ? Ta. No, but I fhall come to Life to
again then. Ma. Well, you have removed my Objedion.
My Pamphilus, farewel. Pa. Do you take Care of that.
Ma. I wifh you a good Night. Why do you figh ? Pa. A
good Night, fay you, I wifli you would give me what you
wifh me. Ma. Soft and fair, you are a litde too hafty. Pa.
Muft I not carry nothing of you along with me ? Ma. This j
fweet Ball i it will cheer your Heart. Pa. But give me a *
Kifs too. Ma. No, I have a Mind to keep my Maidenhead
for you entire and untouch'd. Pa. Will a Kifs take any
thing from your Virginity ? Ma. Will you give me leave to
kifs other Folks ? Pa. No, by no Means, I'd have my Kifles
kept for my felf. Ma. Well, I'll keep 'em for you : But
there is another Reafon why I dare not give you a Kifs, as
Things are at prefenr. Pa. What is that ? Ma. You fay your
Soul is gone out of your Body into mine, fo that there is
but very little left. I am afraid that in Kifling, the litde that
is left in you, fhould jvmp out of you into me, and fo you
Ihould be quite dead. Shake Hands as a Pledge of my Love,
and fo farewel. Do you fee that you manage the Matter
vigoroufly, and I'll pray to God in the mean Time, that
whacfoever be done, may be for both our good.
The
[ '47 ]
The Virgin averfe to Matrimony.
The Argument.
y/ yirgin averfe to Matrimony^ will needs he a Hun.
She is dijjuaded from it^ and perfuaded to moderate
her Inclination in that Matter., and to do nothing
againji her Parents Confent^ but rather to marry.
'ithat Virginity way he maintained in a conjugal Life.
'The Monks IVay of living in Celibacy is rally'd.
Children^ why fo calVd. He abhors tloofe Plagiariest^
who entice young Men and Maids into MonaJierieSy
as though Salvation was to he had no other PVay ;
whence it comes to pafs^ that many great JVits ar^
as it were buried alive.
EUBULUS, CATHERINE.
TpUB. lam ^lad with all my Hearr, that Supper is over
'*--' at laft that we may have an Opporcuni^ to take a Walki
which is the gre^teft Diverfun in the World. Ca. And I
was quite tir'd of fitting fo long at Table. Eu. How greeil
and charming does every Thing in the World look! furely,
this is its Youth. Ca. Ay, fo it is. Eu. But why is it not
Spring with you | too ? Ca. What do you mean? Eu. Be-
caufe you look a little dull. Ca. Why, don't I look as
I ufe to do ? Eu Shall I fhew you how you look ? Ca,
With all my Heart. Eu. Do you fee this Rofe, how it
concradls it feifj now towards Night ? Ca. Yes, I do fed
it : And what then ? Eu. Why^, juft fo you look. Ca,-
A very fine Comparifon. Eu. It you won't believe me, fee:
your own Face m this Fountain here. What wa the Mean-
ing you fat fighing at Supper \o ? Ca. Pray don't ask Que-
ftions about that which don't concern you. Eu. But it does
very much concern me, fince I can't be chearfui my fe]f>
without you be fo too. See now, there's another Sigh, ^nd
a deep one too ! Ca. There is indeed fomething that trou-
bles my Mind, but I muft not tell it. Eu. What, won't
you tell it me, that love you more dearly than I do
La my
-:.[ .48 ]
my own Sifter : My Katy, don't be afraid to fpeak ; be it
, what it will you are fafe. Ca. If I lliould be fafe enough,
yet I'm afraid I (hall be never the better in telling my Tale
to one that can do me no good. Eu. How do you know
that ? If I can't ferve you in the Thing it felf, perhaps I
may in Counfel or Confolation, Ca. I can't fpeak it out.
Eu. What is the Matter ? Do you hate me ? Ca. I love
you more dearly than my own Brother, and yet for all
that my Heart won't let me divulge it. Eu. Will you tell
me, if I guels it ? Why do you quibble now } Give m.e
your Word, or I'll never let you alone till I have it out.
Ca. Well then, I do give you my Word. Eu. Upon the
whole of the Matter, I can't imagine what you fliould want
of being compleatly happy. Ca. I would I were fo. Eu.
You are in the very Flower of your Age : If I'm not
miftaken, you are now in your feventeenth Year. Ca.
That's true. Eu. So that in my Opinion the Fear of old
Age can't yet be any Part of your Trouble. Ca. Nothing
le(s, I affiire you. £«•. And you are every Way lovely, and
that is the fingular Gift of God. Ca, Of my Perfon fuch as
it is, I neither glory nor complain. Eu. And befides the
Habit of your Body and your Complexion befpeak you to
be in perfedt Health, unlefs you have fome hidden Diftem-
per. Ca. Nothing of that, I thank God. Eu. And befides,
your Credit is fair. Ca. I truft it is. Eu. And you are en-
dow'd with a good Underftanding fuitable to the Perfedions
of your Body, and fuch a one as I could wifh to my felf,
in order to my Attainment of the liberal Sciences. Ca. If
I have, I thank God for it. Eu. And again, you are of a
good agreeable Humour, which are rarely met with in great
Beauties, they arc not wanting neither. Ca. I wifh they were
fuch as they iTiould be. Eu. Some People are uneafy at the
meannefs of their Extradlion, but your Parents are both of
them well defcended, and virtuous, of plentiful Fortunes, and
very kind to you. Ca. I have nothing to complain of upon
that Account. Eu. What need of many Words ? Of all
the young Women in the Country you are the Perfon I
would chufe for a Wife, if I were in Condition to pretend
to't. Ca. And I would chufe none but you for a Huf-
band, if I were difpos'd to marry. Eu. It muft needs be
fome extraordinary Matter that troubles your Mind fo. Ca.
It is no light Matter, you may depend upon it. Eu. You
won't take it ill I hope if I guefs at it. Ca. I have pro-
mis'd you I won't, Eu. I know by Experience what a
Torment Love is. Come, confefs now, is that it } You
promis'd to tell me. C</. There's Love in the Cafe, but not
that~
[ «4P ]
that fort of Love that you imagine. Eu. What fort of
Love is it that you mean ? Ca. Guels. Eu. I have guefs'd
all the GuefTes I can guefsj but I'm refolv'd I'll never let
go this Hand till I have gotten it out of you. Ca. How '
violent you are. Eu. Whatever your Care is, repofe it in
my Breaft. Ca. Since you are fb urgent, I will tell you.
From my very Infancy I have had a very ftrong Inclina-
tion. Eu. To what, I befeech you. Ca. To put my felf
into a Cloyfter. Eu. What, to be a Nun. Ca. Yes. Eu.
Ho! I find I was out in my Notion ^ to leave a Shoulder
of Mutton for a Sheep's Head. Ca. What's that you fay,
Eubulus ? Eu. Nothing, my Dear, I did but cough. But,
go on, tell me it out. Ca. This was my Inclination j but
my Parents were violenriy fet againft it. Eu. I hear ye. Ca.
On the other hand, I ftrove by Intreaties, fair Words, and
Tears, to overcome that pious Averfion of my Parents. Eu.
O ftrange ! Ca. At length when they faw I perfifted in In-
treaties, Prayers, and Tears, they promis'd me that if I con-
tinu'd in the fame Mind till I was feventeen Years of Age,
they would leave me to my own Liberty : The Time is now
come, I continue ftill in the fame Mind, and they go from
their Words. This is that which troubles my Mind. I have
told you my Diftemper, do you be my Phylician, and cure
me, if you can. Eu. In the firft Place, my fweet Creature,
I would advife you to moderate your Affedlions ; and if
you can't do all that you would, do all that you can. Ca.
It will certainly be the Death of me, if I han't ray De-
fire. Eu. What was it that gave the firft Rife to this fa-
tal Refolution ? Ca. Formerly, when I was a litde Girl,
they carried me into one of thofe Cloyfters of Virgins,
carry'd me all about it, and fhew'd me the whole Col-
lege. I was mightily taken with the Virgins, they look'd
fb charming pretty, juft like Angels j the Chapels
were fo neat, and fmelt fo fweet, the Gardens look'd Co
delicately well order'd, that in fliort which Way foever I
turn'd my Eye every Thing feem'd delightful. And then
I had the prettieft Difcourfe with the Nuns. And I found
two or three that had been my Play-Fellows when I was
a Child, and I have had a ftrange Paflion for that fort of
Life ever fince. Eu. I have no Diflike to the Nunneries
themfelves, though the fame Thing can ne\ier agree with all
Perfons : But confidering your Genius, as far as I can ga-
ther from your Complexion and Manners, I fliould rather
advife you to an agreeable Husband, and fet up a College
in your own Houfe, of which he fliould be the Abbot
and you the Abbels. Ca. I will rather die than quit my
[ 15° 1
Refolution of Virginity. E«. Nay, it is indeed an admi-
rable Thing; to be a pare Virgin, but you may keep your
felf fo without: running your felf into a Cioyfter, from
which you never can come out. You may keep your
Maidenhead at home with your Parents. Ca. Yes, I may,
but it is not fo fafe there. Eu. Much fafer truly in my
Judgment there, than with thofe brawny, fwiU-bdly'd
Monks. They are no Capons, I'll affure you, whatever you
may think of thenj. They are call'd Fathers, and they com-
monly make good their Calling to the very Letter. Time
was when Maids liv'd no where honefter than at home
U'ith their Parents, when the only fpiritual Father they had
was the Biiliop. But, prithee, tell me, what Cloyfter haft
thou made Choice of among 'em all, to be a Slave in ?
Ca. The Chryfertian. Eu. Oh ! I know it, it is a little Way
from your Father's Houfe. Ca. You're right. Eu. I am
very well acquainted with the whole Gan^. A fweet Fel-
lowfhip to renounce Father and Mother, Friends, and a
worthy Family for ! For the Patriarch himfelf, what with
Age, Wine, and a certain natural Drowfine6, has b^en
mop'd this many a Day, he can't now relifli any Thing
but Wine; and he has two Companiiins, John and Jodocusy
that match him to a Hair. And as for John, indeed I
can't fay he is an ill Man, for he has nothing at all of
a Man about him but his Beard, not a Grain of Learn-
ing in him, and not much more common Prudence. And
Jodocus he's lb errant a Sot, that if he were not ty'd up
to the Habit of his Order, he would walk the Streets in
a Fool's Cap with Ears and Bells at it. Ca. Truly they
feem to m.e to be very good Men. Eu. But, my Kitty,
I know 'em better than you do. They will do good Of-
fices perhaps between you and your Parents, that they may
gain a Profelyte. Ca. Jodocus is very civil to me. Eu.
A great Favour indeed. But fuppofe 'em good and learn-
ed Men to Day, you'll find 'em the contrary perhaps to Mor-
row J and let them be what they will then, you muft bear
with them. Ca. I am troubled to fee fo many Entertain-
ments at my Father's Houfe, and marry'd Folks are fo gi-
ven to talk fmutty j I'm put to't fometimes when Men
come to kifs me, and you know one can't well deny a
Kifs. Elf. He that would avoid every Thing that offends
him, muft go out of the World i we muft accuftom our
Ears to hear every Thing, but lee nothing enter the
Mind but what is good. I fuppofe your Parents allow
you a Chamber to your felf. Ca. Yes., they do. Eu Then
' you may retire thither, if you find the Company grow trou-
blefome j
C "i- ]
blefome ; and while they are drinking and joking, you may
entertain your felf with Chrift your Spoufe, praying. Ting-
ing, and giving Thanks : Your Father's Houfe will not de-
file you, and you will make it the more pure. Ca. But
it is a great deal fafer to be in Virgins Company, Eu. I
.do not difapprove of a chafte Society : Yet I would not have
you delude your felf with falfe Imaginations. When once
you come to be throughly acquainted there, and fee Things
nearet Hand, perhaps Things won't look with fo good a
Face as they did once. They are not all Virgins that
wear Vails j believe me. Ca. Good Words, I befeech you.
Eu. Thofe are good Words that are true Words. I never
read of but one Virgin that was a Mother, i. e. the Virgin
Mary, unlefs the Eulogy v/e appropriate to the Virgin be
transferr'd to a great many to be call'd Virgins after Child-
bearing. Ca. I abhor the Thoughts on'r. E«. Nay, and
more than that, thofe Maids, I'Jl afTure you, do more than
becomes Maids to do. Ca. Ay ! Why fo, pray ? E«. Be-
caufe there are more among 'em that imitate Sappho in
Manners, than are like her in Wit. Ca. I don't very well
underfliand you. £.7. My dear Kitty, I therefore fpeak in
Cypher that you may not underftand me. Ca. But my
Mind runs ftrangely upon this Courfe of Life, and I have
a ftrong Opinion that this Difpofuion comes from God,
becaufe it hath continu'd with me fo many Years, and
grows every Day ftronger and ftronger. Eu. Your good
Parents being fo violently fet againft it, makes me fufpe6t
it. If what you attempt were good, God would have incli-
ned your Parents to favour the Motion. But you have con-
tradted this Affedlion from the gay things you faw when
you were a Child j the Tittle-tattles of the Nuns, and
the Hankering you have after your old Companions, the
external Pomp and fpecious Ceremonies, and the Importu-
nities of the fenfelels Monks which hunt you to make a
Profelyte of you, that they may tipple more largelv. They
know your Father to be liberal and bountiful, and they'll
either give him an Invitation to them, becaufe they know
he'll -bring Wine enough with him to ferve for ten lufty
Soaks, or elfe they'll come to him. Therefore let me ad-
vife you to do nothing without your Parents Confcnt,
who n God has appointed your Guardians. God would
have inf'^ired their Minds too, if the Thing you were at-
tempting were a religious Matter. Ca. In this Matter
it is Piety to contemn Father and Mother. Eu. It is,
I grir.r, fometimes a Piece of Piety to contemn Father or
Mother for the Sake of Chrift ; but for all that, he would
L 4 not
[ '5^ ]
not ad piouflyj that being a Chriftian, and had a Pagan
to his Father, who had nothing but his Son's Charity to
fupport him, fhould forfake him, and leave him to ftarve.
If you had not to thir; Day profefs'd Chrifl by Baptifm,
and your Parenrs fliould ■ forbid you to be baptis'd, you
would indeed then do pioufly to prefer Chrift before your
impious Parents j or if ycur Parents fhould offer to foi-ce you
to do fome impious, fcandalous Thing, their Authority in
that Cafe were to be contemned. But what is this to the
Cafe of a Nunnery ? You have a Chrift at home. You have
the Diftates of Nature, the Approbation of Heaven, the Ex-
hortation of St. Taul, and the Obligation of human Laws, for
your Obedience to Parents j and will you now withdraw your felf
from under the Authority of good and natural Parents, to give
your felf up a Slave to a fiditious Father, rather than to
your real Father,- and a ftrange Mother inftead of your true
Mother, and to fevere Mafters and Miftreffes rather than
Parents } For you are fo under your Parents Direction, that
they would have you be at Liberty wholly. And therefore
Sons and Daughters are call'd [liberi] Children, becaufc
they are free from the Condition of Servants. You are now of
a free V/oman about to make your felf voluntarily a Slave.
The Clemency of the Chriftian Religion has in a great
Meafure caft out of the World the old Bondage, faving
only fome obfcure Foot-fteeps in fome few Places. But
there is now a Days found out under Pretence of Reli-
gion a new fort of Servitude, as they now live indeed
\n many Monafteries. You muft do nothing there but by
3 Rule, and then all that you lofe they get. If you offer
to ftep but one Step out of the Door, you're lugg'd back a-
gain juft like a Criminal that had poifon'd her Father. And
to make the Slavery yet the more evident, they change
the Habit your Parents gave you, and after the Manner of
thofe Slaves in old Time, bought and fold in the Market,
they change the very Name that was given you in Baptifm,
and Tetcr or John are call'd Francis, or Dominic, or Tho-
Tnas. Peter firft gives his Name up to Chrift, and being to
be enrer'd into Dominic's Order, he's call'd Thomas'. If a
military Servant cafts off the Garment his Mafter gave him,
is he not look'd upon to haye renounc'd his Mafter ? And do
we applaud him that takes upon him a Habit that Chrift
the Mafter of us all never gave him } He is punifli'd more
feverely for the changing it again, than if he had a hun-
dred Times thrown away the Livery of his Lord and
Emperor, which is the Innocency of his Mind. Ca. But
they fay, it is a meritorious Work to enter into this vo-
luntary
I 153 1
luntary Confinement, Bu. That is a pharifaical Dodn'ne,
St. Paul teachech us otherwife, and will not have him that is
called free, make himjelf a Servant, hut rather endeavour that
he may he more free: And this makes the Servitude the
worfe, that' you muft ferve many Mafters, and thofe moft
commonly Fools too^ and Debauchees^ and befides that,
they are uncertain, being every now and then new. But an-
fwer me this one Thing, I befeechyou, do any Lawsdifcharge
you from your Duty to your Parents ? Ca, No. Eu. Can
you buy or fell an Eftate againft: your Parents Confent?
Ca. No, I can't. Eu. What Right have you then to give
away yourfelf to I know not whom, againfl; your Parents
Confent.!^ Are you not his Child, the deareft and moft
appropriate Part of his Poffeflion? Ca In the Bufine(s of
Religion, the Laws of Nature give Place Eu. The great
Point of our Religion lies in our Baptifm : But the Matter
in Queftion here is, only the changing of a Habit, or of fuch
a Courfe of Life, which in itfelF is neither Good noi Evil.
And now confidcr but this one Thing, how many valuable
Privileges you lofe, together with your Liber-^y. Now, if"
you have a Mind to read, pray, or fing, you may go into
your own Chamber, as much and as often as you pleafc.
When you have enough of Retirement, you may go to
Church, hear Anthems, Prayers and Sermons j and if you fee
any Matron or Virgin remarkable for Piety, in whofe Com-
pany you may get good ^ if you fee any Man that is endow'd
with Angular Probity, from whom you may learn what will
make for your bettering, you may have their Converfation ;
and you may chufe that Preacher that preaches Chrift moft
purely. When once you come into a Cloyfter, all thefe
Things, that are the greateft Affiftances in the Promotion of
true Piety, you lofe at once. Ca. But in the mean Time I
fliall not be a Nun. Eu. What fignifies the Name } Con-
fider the Thing itfelf. They make their boaft of Obedience,
and won't you be praife-v;orthy, in being obedient to your
Parents, your Biftiop and your Paftor, whom God has com-
manded you to obey } Do you profefs Poverty ? And may
not you too, when all is in your Parents Hands? Although
the Virgins of former Times were in an efpecial Manner
commended by holy Men, for their Liberality towards the
Poor j but they could never have given any thing, if they
had poffeflfed nothing: Nor will your Charity be ever thele6
for Hving with your Parents. And v;hat is there more in a
Convent than thefe? A Vail, a Linnen-Shift turned into a
Stole, and certain Ceremonies, which of themfelves fionify
nothing to the Advancement of Piety, and make no Body
mere
[ '54 ]
more acceptable in the Eyes of Chrift, who only regards the
Purity of the Mind. Ca. This is News to me. Eu. But it
is true News. When you, not being difcharg'd from the
Government of your Parents, can't difpofe of, or fell fomuch
as a Rag, or an Inch of Ground, what Right can you pretend
to for difpofing of yourfelf into the Service of a Stranger.
Ca. They fay, that the Authority of a Parent does not hinder
a Child from entring into a religious Life. Eu. Did you not
make Profeffion of Religion in your Baptifm? Ca. Yes.
Eu. And are not they religious Perfons^ that conform to the
Precepts of Chrift ? Ca. They are fo. Eu. What new Re-
ligion is that then, which makes that void, that the Law of
Nature had eftablifh'd ? What the old Law hath taught, and
the Gofpel approv'd, and the Apoftles confirm'd? That is
an Ordinance that never came* from Heaven, but was hatch'd .
by a Company of Monks in their Cells. And after this |
Manner, fome of them undertake to juftify a Marriage be-
tween a Boy and a Girl, though without the Privity, and
againft the Confent of their Parents i if the Contrad be (as
they phrafa it ) in Words of the prefent Tenfe : And yec
that PoGtion is neither according to the Didate of Nature,
the Law of Mofes, or the Dodtrine of Chrifi or his Apoftles.
Ca. Do you think then, that I may not efpoufe myfelf to ,
Chrift without my Parents Confent ? Eu. I fay, you have \
efpous'd him already, and fo we have all. Where is the
Woman that marries the fame Man twice ? The Queftion is
bere only about Places, Garments and Ceremonies. I don't
think Duty to Parents is to be abandon'd for the Sake of
thefe Things j and you ought to look to it, that inftead of
efpoufing Chrift, you don't efpoufe fome Body elfe. Ca. But
I am told, that in this Cafe it is a Piece ot the highefb
Sandity, even to contemn ones Parents. Eu. Prjy, require
thefe Do6lors to fliew you a Text for it, out of the holy
Scriptures, th^t teach this Doftrinej but if they cav.'i do this,
bid them drink off a good large Bumper of Burgundian
Wine : That they can do bravely. It is indeed a Piece of
Piety to fly from wicked Parents to Chrift ; But to fiy from |
pious Parents to a Monkery, that is fas it too often proves ) '
to fly from ought to ftark naught. What pity is that I pray ?
Although in old Time, he that was converted firom Paganifm \
to Chriftianity, paid yet as great a Reverence to his idolatrous
Parents, as it v/as poffible to be without prejudice to Religion
itfelf. Ca. Are you then againft the mam Inftitution of a
monaftick Life? Eu. No, by no means: But as I will not
perfuade any Body aga'mfi it, that is already engag'd in this
Sort of Life, to endeavour U) ^et out of it, fo I would moft
undoubtedly
[ «i5 ]
undoubtedly caution all young Women ; efpecially thofe of
generous Tempers, nor to precipirate themfelves vmadvifedly
into that State from whence there is no getting out afterwards:
And the rather, becaufe their Chancy is more in Danger in a
Cloyfter than out of it; and befide that, you may do v^hat-
foever is done there, as well at home. Ca You have in-
deed urg'd many, and very confiderable Arguments ; yet this
Affection of mine can't be removed. Eu If I can't diduade
you from ir, as I wifh heartily I could ; however, remember
this one thing, that Eubulus told you before Hand. In the
mean Time, out of the Love I bear you, I wifh your In-
clinations may fucceed better than my Counlel.
The Penitent Virgin.
The Argument.
ui Virgin repenting before pe had profefs^d herfelf^ goes
Home again to her Parents. 'The crafty Tricks of
the Monks are deteSled^ who terrify and frighten un^
experienced Minds into their Cloyfers^ by feign'' d Ap'
Iparitions and Fifions.
EUBULUS, CATHERINE.
£17. I could always wifh to have fuch a Porter. Ca. And
I ro have fuch Vifitors. Eu. But fare you well, Kitty.
Ca. What's the Matrer, do you take leave before you falute?
Eu. I did not come hither to lee you cryj What's the matter,
that as foon as ever you fee me, the i ears lland in your
Eyes? Ca. Why in fuch Hafle? Stay a little i pray ftay.
ril put on my better Looks, and we'll be merry together.
Eu. What Sort of Cattle have we got here ? Ca. 'Tis the
Patriarch of the College: Don't go away, they have had their
Do-e of Fuddle : Sriy but a little while, and as foon as he is
gone, we will aifcourfe as we ufe to do. Eu. Well, Fil be
fo good natur'd as to hearken to you, though you would noc
to me. Nowf we are alone, you muft tell me the whole
Story, I would fain have it from your Mouth. Ca. Now I
have found by Experience, of all my Friends, which I took
to be very v\'ile Men too, that no Body gave more wife and
grave Auvice than you, that are the youngefl of 'em all. Eu.
Tell me, how did you gee your Parents Confent at laft? Ca,
Firff^
[ 'in
Firft, by the reftlefs SoUicications of the Monks and Nuns,
and then by niy own Importunities and Tears, my Mother
was at length brought over ; but my Father flood out ftiffly
ftill : But at iaft being ply'd by feveral Engines, he was pre-
vail'd upon to yield j but yet, rather like one that was forced,
than that confented. The Matter was concluded in their
Cups, and they preach'd Damnation to him, if he refus'd to
let Chrift have his Spoufe. Eu. O the Villany of Fools!
But what then? Ca. I was kept clofe at Home for three
Days J but in the mean Time there were always with me
fome Wom.en of the College that they call Convertites,
mightily encouraging me to perfift in my holy Refolution,
and watching me narrowly, left any of my Friends or Kindred
fhould come at me, and make me alter my Mind. In the
mean While, my Habit v/as making ready, and the Provifion
for the Feaft. Eu. How did you findyourfelf? Did not your
Mind mifgive you yet ? Ca. No, not at all j and yet I was
fo horridly frighted, that I had rather die ten Times over,
than fufFer the fame again. Eu. What was that, pray? Ca.
It is not to be uttered. Eu. Come, tell me freely, you know
I'm your Friend. Ca. Will you keep Counfel. Eu. I fhould
do that without promifing, and I hope you know me better
than to doubt of it. Ca. I had a moft dreadful Apparition.
Eu. Perhaps it v.'as your evil Genius that pufh'd you on to
this. Ca. I am fully perfuaded it was an evil Spirit. Eu.
Tell me what Shape it was in ? Was it fuch as we uie to
paint with a crooked Beak, long Horns, Harpies Claws, and
Twinging Tail? Ca. You make a Game of it, but I had
rather fink into the Earth, than fee fuch another. Eu. And
were your Women SollicitrefTes with you then ? Ca. No,
nor I would not io much as open my Lips of it to them,
though they fifted me moft particularly about it, when they
found me almoft dead with the Surprife. Eu. Shall I tell
you what it was ? Ca. Do if you can. Eu. Thofe Wo-
men had certainly bewitch'd you, or conjur'd your Brain out
of .your Head rather. But did you perfift in your Refolution
ftill, for all this. Ca. Yes, for they told me, that many were
thus troubled upon their firft confecratingthemfelves to Chrift j
but if they got the better of the Devil that Bout, he'd let
them alone for ever after. Eu. Well, what Pomp were you
carried out with ? Ca. They put on all my Finery, let
down my Hair, and drefs'd me juft as if it had been for my
Wedding. Eu. To a fat Monk, perhaps j Hem! a Mifchief
take this Cough, Ca. I was carried from my Father's Houfe
to the College by broad Day-light, and a World of People
rtaring at me. Eu. O thefe Scaramouches* how they know
to
to. wheedle the poor People! How many Days did you con-
; tinue in that holy College of Virgins, forlboth ? Ca. Till
pare of the twelfth Day. Eu. But what was it that changed
your Mind, that had been fo refolutely bent upon ir. Ca.
I muft not tell you what it was, but it was fomething very
confiderable. When I had been there fix Days, I fent for
my Mother J I begged of her, and befought her, as fhe
lov'd my Life, to get me out of the College again. She
v?oald not hear on'r, but bad me hold to my Refolution.
Upon that I fent for my Father, but he chid me too, telling
'me, that I had inade him mafter his AfFedions. and that now
he'd make me mafler mine, and not difgrace him, by ftart-
ing from ray purpofc. At laft, when I faw that I could do
no good with them this way, I told my Father and Mother
•;both, that to pleafe them, I would fubmiic to die, and that
would certain!/ be my Fate, if they did not take me out,
and that very quickly too^ and upon this, they took me
Home. Eu. It was very well that you recanted before you
had profefs'd yourfelf for good and all : But ftill, I don't hear
what it was changed your Mind fo fuddenly. Ca. I never
told any Mortal yet, nor fhall. Eu. What if I fhould guefs?
Ca. I'm fure you can't guefs iCj and if you do, I won't tell
you. Eu. Well, for all that, I guefs what it^was. But in
.the mean Time, you have been at a great Charge. Ca.
Above 400 Crowns. Eu. O thefe guttling Nuptials ! well,
but I am glad though the Money is gone, that you're fafe:
For the Time to come, hearken to good Couniel v^hen it is
given you. Ca. So I will. The hur?}t Child dreads the Fire,
The
[ liS ]
The Uneafy Wife.
The Argument.
^his Colloquy^ entitled, The uneafy Wife: Or, Uxor
lAiiJ.'\iyayLQ-^ treats of many 'Things that relate to
the 'mutual Nourijhment of conjugal Affe^icn. Con' m
cerning the concealing a Husband's Faults ; of not in' |
terrupting conjugal Benevolence , of making up Z)//^l
ferences •. of mending a Husband'' s Manners ; of a
/Roman's Condefcention to her Husband. What is
the Beauty of a fVoman j floe d'lfgraces herfelf^ that
di [graces her Husband -, that the IVife ought to fub'
mit to the Husband j that the Husband ought not to
he out of Humour when the fVife is j and on the
contrary \ that they ought to ftudy mutual Concord^
ftnce there is no Room for Advice j that they ought
to conceal one anothers Faults^ and not expofe one ano'
thcr i that it is in the Power of the Wife to mend
her Husband ; that fhe ought to carry herfelf enga-
gingly^ learn his Humour^ what provokes him or ap'
peafes him\ that all Things be in Order at Home'y
that he have what he likes hef to eat j that if the
Husband be vcict^ the M^ife don't laugh } ;/ he ht
angr% that fhe fhould fpeak pleafantly to him^ or
hold her Tongue ; that what fhe blames him for^
Jhould be betwixt themfelves •, the Method of admO'
nifloing •, that flje ought to make her Complaint to no
Body but her Husband's Parents ; or to forne pecu'
liar Friends that have an Influence upon him. The
Example of a prudent Man^ excellently managing a
young rnorofe Wife., by making his Complaint to her
Father. Another of a prudent Wife^ that by her
good Carriage reformed a Husband that frequented
leud Company. Another of a Man that had beaten
his Wife in his angry Fit j that Husbands are to be
overcome^
t '59 1
overcome^ brought into 'Temper by Mildaefs^ SiveetneJ)^
and Kindnefs j that there Jhould be no Contentioif m
the Chamber or in the Bed-, but that Care Jhould be
taken^ that nothing but Pleafantnsfs and Engaging"
nefs be there. 'The Girdle of Venus is Agreeablenefs
of Manners. Children make a mutual Amity. 'That
a Woman feparated from her Husband^ is nothing :
Let her always be mindful of the Refpe^ that is
due to a Husband.
EULALIA, XANTIPPE,
U. Moft welcome Xaatippe, a good Morning to you.
Xa. I wifh yoa the famcj my dear Eulalia. Methinks
you look prettier than you ufe to do. Eu. What, do you
begin to banter me already ? Xa. No, upon my Word, for
yoLi feem fo to me. Ea. Perhaps then my new Cloaths may
fet me off to Advantage. Xa. You gtiefs right, it is one of
the prectieft Suits I ever beheld in all my Life. It is Eng/i/b
Clorh, I fuppofe. Eu. It is indeed of Engliflj Wool, but it
is a Venetian Dye. Xa. It is as foft as Silk, and 'tis a charm-
ing Purple. Who gave you this fine Prelent? Eu. My
Husband. From v/hom fhould a virtuoub Wife receive Pre-
fents from but from him. Xa. Well, you are a happy Wo-
man, ihat you are, to have fuch a good Husband. For my
Pare, I willi I had been married to a Mufhroom when I was
married to my Wck. Eu. Why fo, pray ? What is it come
to an open Rupture between you already ? Xa. There is no
Poffibilicy of agreeing with fuch a one as I have got. You
fee what a ragged Condition I am in ^ fo be lets me go like
a Dowdy ! May I never ftir, if I an't afliam'd to go out
of Doors any whither, when I fee how fine orher Wo-
men are, whofe Husbands are nothing nigh fo rich as
mine is. Eu. The Ornament of a M.tron dees not con-
fift in fine Cloaths or other Deckings n the Body, as the
Apoftle Feter teaches, for I heard that lately in a Ser-
mon; but in chafte and modeft Behaviour, and the Orna-
ments of the Mind. Whores are trick'd up to take the
Eyes of many, but v.'e are well enough dreft, if we do but
pleafe our own Husbands. Xa. But mean while this
worthy Tool of mine, that is fo fparing toward his Wife,
laviflily fquanders away the Portion I brough-- along with
me, which by the \Vay was not a me?n one. Eu. In
\yhat? Xa. Why, as the Maggot bites, fometimes at the
Tavern,
[ '^o ]
Tavern, fomeiimes upon his Whores, fometlmes a gaming.
Eu. O fie, you fhould never fay fo of your Husband. Xa.
But I'm fure 'tis too truej and then when he comes home,
afcer I have been waiting for him till I don't know what
Time at Night, as drunk as David's Sow, he does nothing
but lye fnoring all Night long by my Side, and fometimes
befpucs the Bed too, to fay nothing more. Eu. Hold your
Tongue : Yoa difgrace your (elf in difgracing your Husband.
Xa. Let me die, iF I had not rather lye with a Swine than'
fuch a Husband as I have got. Eu. Don't you fcold at him
then ? Xa. Yes indeed, I ufe him as he deferves. He finds
I have got a Tongue in my Head. Eu. Well, and what
does he fay to you again ? Xa. At firft he ufed to hedor ac
me luftily, thinidng to fright me with his big Words. Eu.
Well, and did your Words never come to downright Blows?
Xa. Once, and but once, and then the Quarrel rofe to that
Height on both Sides, that we were within an Ace of going
to Fifty-Cuffs. Eu. How, Woman ! fay you fo ! Xa. He
held up his Stick at me, fwearing and curfing like a
Foot-Soldier, and threatening me dreadfully. Eu. Were
not you afraid then ? Xa. Nay, I fnatch'd up a three
legg'd Stool, and if he had but touch'd me with his
Finger, he fhould have known he had to do with a Woman
of Spirit. Eu. Ah ! my Xantippe, that was not becoming.
Eu. What becoming.^ If he does not ufe me like a Wife, I -
won't ufe him like a Husband. Eu. But St. Faul teaches,
that Wives ought to be fubjedt to their own Husbands
with all Reverence, And St. Feter propofes the Exam-
ple of Sarah to us, who call'd her Husband Abraham
Lord. Xa. I have heard thofe Things, but the fame Faul ^
likewife teaches that Men fhould love their Wives as Chriji
lov'd his Spoufe the Church. Let him remember his Duty
and I'll remember mine. Eu But neverthelefs when Things
are come to that Pafs that one muft fubmit to the other,
it is but reafonable that the Wife fubmit to her Husband.
Xa, Yes indeed, if he deferves the Name of a Husband
who ufes me like a Kitchen Wench. Eu. But tell me,
Xantippe, did he leave off threatening after this ? Xa. He
did leave off, and it was his Wifdom fo to do, or elfe he
would have been threfh'd, Eu. But did not you leave ofF
Scolding at him ? Xa. No, nor never will. Eu But what
does he do in the mean Time.'* Xa. What! Why fome-
times he pretends himfelf to be taft afleep, and fome-
times does nothing in the World but laugh at mej fome-
times he catches up his Fiddle that has but three Strings,
fcra-
-[ '^' ]
fcraping upon it with all his Might, and drowns the Noife
of my Bawling. Eu. And does not that vex you to the
Heart ? Xa. Ay, fo that it is impoffible to be exprefs'd, fo
that fometimes I can fcarce keep my Hands ofF of him.
Eu. Well, my Xantippe, give me Leave to talk a lircle
freely with you. Xa. I do give you Leave. Eu. Nay,
you fliall ufe the fame Freedom with me. Our Intimacy,
which has been in a manner from our very Cradles, re-
quires this. Xa. You fay true, nor was there any of my
Playfellows that I more dearly lov'd than you. Eu Let
your Husband be as bad as bad can be, think upon this.
That there is no changing. Heretofore, indeed. Divorce
' was a Remedy for irreconcileable Difagreements, but now
this is entirely taken away : He muft be your Husband and
you his Wife to the very laft Day of Life. Xa. The Gods
did very wrong that depriv'd us of this Privilege. Eu.
Have a Care what you fay. It was the Will of Chrift.
Xa. I can fcarce believe it. Eu. It is as I tell you.
Now you have nothing left to do but to ftudy to fuit
your Tempers and Difpofitions one to another, and agree
together. Xa. Do you thhtk, I can be able to new-make:
him ? Eu. It does not a httle depend upon the Wives, what
jMen Husbands fnall be. Xa. Do you and your Husband
agree very well together ? Eu. All is quiet with us now,
Xa. Well then, you had feme Difference at firll ? Xa.
Never any ^hing of a Storm , but yet, as it is comnioTi
with human Kind, fometimes a few frnall Clouds would
rife, which mJghc have produc'd a Storm, if it had not
been prevented by Condefcenfion. Every one has his Hu-
mours, and every one their Fancies, and if v/e would /:«?-
nefily fpeak the Truth, every one his Faults, viore or lefi,
which if in any State, certainly in Pvlatrimony we ought
to connive at, and not to hate. Xa. You fpeak very right.
Eu. It frequently happens that that mutual Love that ought
to be between the Husband and Wife is cooled before they
come to be throughly acquainted one with another. This
is the firft Thing that ought to be provided againfl j for
when a Spirit of Diflention is once fprung up, it is a dif-
ficult Matter to bring them to a Reconciliation, efpecially
if it ever proceeded fo far as to come to reproachful Re-
fledtions. Thofe Things that are joined together with Glue,
are eafily pull'd one from another if they be handled rough-
ly as foon ds done, but when once they have been faft
united together, and the Glue is dry, there is nothing more
firm. For this Reafon, all the Care poflible is to be taken
M that
C i6-i ] I
that good Will between Man and Wife be (liltivated and
confirmed e-ven in the Infancy of Matrimcjy. This is
principally eflFe£ted by Obfequioufnefs, and an Agreeable-
nefs of Tempers. For that Love that is founded only
upon Beauty, is for the moft part but fliort-liv'd. Xa. But
prithee tell me by what Arts you brought your Hus-
band to your Humour. Eu. I'll tell you for this End, that
you may copy after me. Xa. Well, I will, if I can.
Eu. It will be very eafy to do, if you will ; nor is it too
late yet ; for he is in the Flower of his Youth, and you
are but a Girl ; and as I take it, have not been married this
Twelve Months yet. Xa. You are very right. Eu. Then
I'll tell you ; hut upon Condition, that you'll not fpeak of
it. Xa.. Well, I -w/// 7iot. Eu. It was my firft Care that
I might pleafe my Husband in every Refpedl, that nothing
might give him Offence. I diligently obferved his Inclina-
tions and Temper, and alfo obferved what were his eajiefi
Moments, what Things pleas'd him, and what vex'd him,
as they ufe to do who tame Elephants and JLions, or fuch
Sort of Creatures, that can't be mattered by dovjnright
Strength. Xa. And fuch an Animal have I at Home. Eu.
Thofe that go near Elephants, wear no Garment that is
white ; nor thofe who manage Bulls, red ; becaufe it is
found by Experience, that thefe Creatures are made fierce
by thefe Colours, juft as Tygers are made fo raging mad by
the Sound of a Drum, that they will tear their own felves j
and Jockies have particular Sounds, and Whiftles, and
Stroakings, and other Methods to footh Horfes that are met-
tlefome: How much more does it become us to ufe thefe
Ads towards our Husbands, with whom, whether we will
or no, we mufl live all our Lives at Bed and Board ? Xa. ]
Well, go on with what you have begun. Eu. Having -
found out his Humour, I accommodated my felf to him, ta-.
Icing Care that nothing fnould offend him. Xa. How could .
you do that ? Eu. I was very diligent in the Care of my
Family, which is the peculiar Province of Women, thac|
nothing was negleifted, and that every Thing fliould be fui-
table to his Temper, altho' it were in the moft minute
Things. Xa. What Things ? Eu. Suppofe my Husband
peculiarly fancied fuch a Difh of Meat, or liked it drefs'd
after fuch a Manner j or if he lik'd his Bed made after fuch
or fuch a Manner. Xa. But how could you humour one;
who was never at Home, or was drunk ? Eu. Have Pa-i
ticnce, I was coming to that Point. If at any Time myj
Husband feem'd to hQ melancholy, and did not much care^
for
for talking, f did not laugh, and put on a gay Humour, as
feme Womfen are us'd to do ; but I put on a grave de-
mure Countenance, as ivell as he. For as a Looki'ng-Glals,
if it be a true one, reprefents the Face of the Perfon that
looks into it, fo a Wife ought to frame herfelf to the Tem-
per ot her Husband, not to be chearful when he is melancholy,
nor be merry when he is in a Paffion. And if at any Time
he was in a Paffion, I either endeavoured to fooch him with
fair Words, or held my Tongue till his Paffion was over j
and having had Time to cool. Opportunity offered, either
of clearing my felf, or of admoniffiing him. I took the
fame Method, if at any Time he came Home fuddled, and
at fuch a Time never gave him any Thing but tender Lan-
guage, that by kind Expreffions, I might get him to go to
Bed. Xa. This is indeed a very unhappy Portion for Wives,
if they mufl: only humour their Husbands, when they are
in a Paffion, and doing every Thing that they have a Mind
to do. Eu. As tho' this Duty were not reciprocal, and that
our Husbands are not forc'd to bear with many of our Hu-
mours : However, there is a Time, when a V/ife may take
the Freedom in a Matter of fome Importance to advife her
Hu.^and ; but as for fmall Faults, it is better to wink ac
theru. Xa. But v/hat Time is that ? Eu. When his Mind
is ferene ; when he's neither in a Paffion, nor in the Hippo,
nor in Liquor j then being in private, you m.ay kindly ad-
vife him, but rather intreat him, that he would ad more
prudendy in this or that Matter, relating either to his Efiatet
'Refutation, or Health. And this very Advice is to be fea-
fon'd with witty Jefts and Pleafantries. Sometimes by way
of Preface, I make a Bargain with him before-hand, that he
fhall not be angry with me, if being a foolifh Woman,
I take upon me to advife him in any Thing, that might feem
to concern his Honour, Health or Prefervation. When I
have faid what I had a Mind to fay, I break off that Dif-
courfe, and turn it into fome other more entertaining Sub-,
jed. For, my Xantippe, this is the Fault of us Women,
that when once we have begun, we don't know when to
make an End. Xa. J-FIpy, Jo they fay, indeed. Eu. This
chiefly I obferved as a Rule, never to chide my Husband
before Company, nor to carry any Complaints out of Doors.
What paffes between two People, is more eafily made up,
^han 'when once it has taken Air. Now if any Thing of
that kind fhall happen, that cannot be born with, and that
the Husband can't be cur'd by the Admonition of his Wife,
it is more prudent for the Wife to carry her Complaints to
M 2 her
[ 1^4 ]
her Husband's Parents and Kindred, than to her own ; and
Co to fofcen her Complaint, that fhe mayn't feem to hate
her Husband, but her Husband's Vices : And net to blab
out all neither, that her Husband may tacitly own and love
his Wife for her Civility. Xa. A Woman muft needs be a
Philofopher, who can be able to do this. Eu. By this De-
portment we invite our Husbands to return the Civility.
Xa. But there are forae Brutes in the World, whom you
cannot amend, by the utmofi good Carriage. Eu. In truth,
I don't think it : But put the Cafe there are : Firft, confider
this j a Husband muft be born with, let him be as bad as
^ he will. It is therefore better to bear with him as he is, or
made a little better by our courteous Temper, than by our
Outragcoufnefs to make him grow every Day worfe and worfe.
What if I fhould give Inftances of Husbands, who by the
like civil Treatment have altered their Spoufes much for the
better ? How much more does it become us, to ufe our
Husbands after this Manner ? Xa. You will give an In-
ftance then of a Man, that is as unlike my Husband, as
black is from white. Eu. I have the Honour to be acquainted
with a Gentleman of a noble Family ^ Learned, and of fin-
gular Addrefs and Dexterity ; he married a young Lady, a
Virgin of feventeen Years of Age, that had been educated
all along in the Country in her Father's Houfe, as Men of
Quality love to refide in the Country, for the Sake of Hunt-
ing and Fowling : He had a Mind to have a raw unexpe-
rienc'd Maid, that he might the more eafily form her Man-
ners to his own Humour. He begun to inftrudt her in Lite-'
rature and Mufick, and to ufe her by Degrees to repeat the
Heads of Sermons, which fhe heard, and to accomplifli her
with other Things, which would afterwards be of ufe to her.
Now thefe Things being wholly new to the Girl, which had
been brought up at Home, to do nothing but goffip and
play, fhe foon grew weary of this Life, fhe abfolucely refus'd
to lubmit to what her Husband requir'd of her ^ and when
her Husband prefs'd her about it, fhe would cry continually,
fometimes fhe would throw herfelf flat on the Ground, and
beat her Head againft the Ground, as tho'fhewifh'd for Death.
Her Husband finding there was no End of this, conceal'd
his Refentment, gave his Wife an Invitation to go along ;
with him into the Country to his Father-in- Law's Houfe,
for the Sake of a little Diverfion. His Wife very readily
obey'd him in this Matter. When they came there, the •
Husband left his Wife with her Mother and Sifters, and went
a Hunting with his Father-in-Law i there having taken him
afidc
C '^5 ]
afide privately, he tells his Father-in-law, that whereas he
was in good Hopes to have had an agreeable Companion of
his Daughter, he now had one that was always a crying, and
fretting herfelf ; nor could ilie be cured by any Admoni-
tions, and intreats him to lend a helping Hand to cure his
Daughter's Diforder. His Father-in-law made him anfwer,
that he had once put his Daughter into his Hand, and if fhe
did not obey him, he might ufe his Authority, and cudgel
her into a due SubmifTion. The Son-in-law replies, I know
my own Power, but I had much rather ilie fliould be re-
form'd by your Art or Authority, than to come to thefe
Extremities. The Father-in-law promis'd him to take fome
Care about the Matrer : So a Day or two after, he takes a
proper Time and Place, when he was alone with his Daugh-
ter, and looking auftercly upOn her, begins in telling her
how homely flie was, and how difagreeable as to her Difpo-
fition, and how often he had been in Fear that he fhould
never be able to get her a Husband : But after much Pains,
fays he, I found you fuch a one, that the beft Lady of the
Land would have been glad of ^ and yet, you not being kn-
fible what I have done for you, nor confidering that you
have fuch a Husband, who if he v/ere not the beft na^ur'd
Man in the World, would fcarce do you the Honour to
take you for one of his Maid Servants, you are difobe-
dient ro him : To make fhort of my Story, the Father
grew fo hot in his Difcourfe, that he feem'd to be fcarce
able to keep his Hands off her j for he was fo wonderful cun-
ning a Man, that he would aft any Part, as well as -^ny
Comedian. The young Lady, partly for fear, and partly
convinc'd by the Truth of what was told her, fell down at
her Father's Feet, befeeching him to forget paft Faults, and
for the Time to come, iTie would be mindful of her Duty.
Her Father freely forgave her, and alfo promifed, that he
would be to her a very indulgent Father, provided fhe per-
formed what fhe promis'd. Xa. Well, V/hat happened after
that } Eu. The young Lady going away, after her Father's
Difcourfe was ended, went diredtly into her Chamber, and
finding her Husband alone, flie fell down on her Knees, and
faid. Husband, till this very Mom.ent, I neither knew you
nor my felf ; but from this Time forward, you fhall find
'me another fort of Perfon j only, J intreat you to forget
what is paft. The Husband receiv'd this Speech with a
Ki(s, and promifed to do every thing jhe could defire, if fh^
did but continue in that Refolucion. Xa. What ! Did flie
continue in it ? Eu. Even to her dying Day ; nor was any
Thing fo mean, but fhe readily and chearfuliy went about
M 5 it*
[ i66 ]
it, if her Husband would have it fo. So great a Love grew,
and was confirmed between them. Some Years after, the
young Lady would often congratulate herfelf, that flie had
happen'd to marry fuch a Husband, which had it not hap-
pen'd, faid flie, I had been the moll wretched Woman alive.
Xa. Such Husbands are as fcarce i^oiv a Days, as white
Crovv's. Eti. Nov/ if it will' not be tedious to you, I'll tell
you a Story, that lately happened in this City, of a Husband
that was reclaimed by the good Management of his Wife.
Xa. I have nothing to do at prefent, and your Converfation
is very diverting. Eu. There is a certain Gentleman of no
mean Defcent j he, like the reft of his Quality, ufed often to
go a Hunting : Being in the Country, he happen'd to fee a
young Damfel, the Daughter of a poor old Woman, and
began to fall defperately in love with her. He was a Man
pretty v/ell in Years \ and for the Sake of this young Maid,
he often lay out a Nights, and his Pretence for it was Hunt-
ing. His Wife, a Woman of an admirable Temper, fufpedt-
ing fomething more than ordinary, went in fearch to find
out her Husband's Intrigues, and having difcover'd them, by
I can't tell what Method, flie goes to the Country Cottage,
and learnt all the Particulars where he lay, what he drank,
and what manner of Entertainment he had at Table. There
was no Furniture in the Houfe, nothing but naked Walls,
The Gentlewoman goes home, and quickly after goes back
again, carrying with her a handfome Bed and Furniture, fome
Plate and Money, bidding them to treat him with more
Refpedl, if at any Time he came there again. A few Days
after, her Husband ileals an Opportunity to go thither, and
fees the Furniture increas'd, and finds his Entertainment more
delicate than it us'd to be ^ he enquir'd from whence this un-
accuftomed Finery came : They faid, that a certain honeft
Gentlevv'om.an of his Acquaintance, brought thefe Things ;
and gave them in Charge, that he fhould be treated with
n^ore Refped for the future. He prefently fufpecled that
this was done by his Wife. When he came Home, he ask'd
her if i\\z had been there. She did not deny it. Then he
ask'd her for Vv'hat Reafon fhe had (ent thither that houfhold
Furniture ? My Dear, fays flie, you are us'd to a handfbmer
Way of Living : I found that you far'd hardly there, I
thought it my Duty, fince you took a Fancy to the Places
that your Reception fliould be more agreeable. Xa. A
Vv''ife good even to an Excels. I fliould fooner have fent
him a Bundle of Nettles and Thorns, than furniJI/d him with
a fae Bed. Eu. But hear the Conclufion of ?ny Story ; the
Gentleman 'was fo touch'd, feeing fo much good Nature
Z and
C 1-^7 ]
and Temper in his Wife, that he never after that violated
her Bed, but folaced himfelf with her at home. I know
you know Gilbert the Dutchman. Xa. I know him. Eu.
He, you know, in the prime of his Age mary'd a Gentle-
woman well ftricken in Years, and in a declining Age. Xa.
It may be he marry'd the Portion, and not the Woman.
Eu. So it was. He having an Averfion to his Wife, was
over Head and Ears in Love with a young Woman, with
whom he us'd ever and anon to divert himfelf abroad. He
very feldom either din'd or fupp'd at home. What would
you have done, if this had been your Cafe, Xanti^pe 1 Xa.
Wioy I would have torn his beloved Strumpet's Head-cloths
off, and I would have wadi'd him inell with a Chamber-
Pot, when he was going to her, that ,he might have gone
thus perfum'd to his Entertainment. Eu. But how much
more prudently did this Gertdewoman behave herfelf. She
invited his Miftrefs home to her Houfe, and treated her with
all the Civility imaginable. So fiie kept her Husband without
any magical Charms. And if at any Time he fupp'd abroad
with her, fhe fent thsm thither fome Nicety or other, de-
firing them to be merry together. Xa. As for me, I would
fooner chufe to lofe my Life than to be Bav/d to my own
Husband. Eu. But in the mean Time, pray confider the
Mztter foberly and coolly. Was not this much better, than
if fhe had by her ill Temper totally alienated her Husband's
Affetlions from her, and fpent her whole Life in quarrelling
and brawling. Xa. I believe, that of two Evils it was the
leaft, but 1 Could never have f^.ibmitted to it. Eu. I vvlll add
one more, and then I'll have done with Examples. A next
Door Neighbour of ours is a very honeil, good Man, but
a little too fubjed to Paffion. One Day he beat his Wife,
a Woman of commendable Prudence. She immediately with-
drew into a private Room, and there gave Vent to her Grief
by Tears and Sighs. Soon after 'upon Ibme Occafion her
Husband came into the Room, and found his Wife all in
Tears. What's the Matter, fays he, that you're crying and
fobbing like a Child ? To which fjie prudently reply'd. Why,
lays fhe, is it not much better to lament my Misfortune
here, than if I Hiould make a Bawling in the Street, as other
Women do ? The Man's Mind was fo overcome and mol-
lified by this Anfwer, fo like a Wife, that giving her his
Hand, he made ^ folemn Promife to his Wife, he Vv'ould ne-
ver lay his Hand upon her after, as long .-'s he livd. Nor did
he ever do it. Xa. I have obtain'd as much from ray Hus-
band, but by a different Conduct. Eu. But in the mean
Time there are perpetual Wars between you. Xa. What
M 4 ' then
[ i<?8 ]
tbc!v would j.'ou have me to do ? Eu. IF your Husband
offers you any AfFront. you muft take no Notice of it, but
endem-our to gain his good Will by all good Oifices, cour-
teous Carriage, and Meeknefs of Spirit, and by thefe Methods ,
you wiil m Time, ehher ixiholly reclaim him, or at leaft
you will live wnh him much more eafy than now you do.
Xa. Ay, but he's too ill-natur'd to be wrought upon by all
the kind Offices i7z the V/orld. Eu, Hold, don't fay fo, there
IS no Beaft that is fo favage but he may be tam'd by aood
Management ; therefore don't defpair of it as to a Manf Do
hut make the Experiment for a few Months, and if you do
not find that this Advice has been of Benefit to you, blame
me. And there are alfo fome Faults that you muft wink at •
but above all Things, it is my Opinion, you ought to avoid
ever to begin any Quarrel either in the Bed-chamber, or in
Bed, and to take a fpecial Care that every Thin<y there be
chearful and pleafant. For if that Place which is confecrated
for the wiping out old Mifcarriages and the cementing of
Love, comes to be unhallowed by Contention and Sou?nefs
of Temper, all Remedy for the Reconcilement is taken
away. For there are fome Women of fo morofe Tempers
that they will be querulous, and fcold even while the Rites
of Love are performing, and will by the Uneafinefs of their
Tempers render that Fruition it felf difagreeable which is i
wont to difcharge the Minds of Men from any Heart-burn-
ing, that they may have had ; and hy thh Means they fpoil j
that Cordial, by which Mifunderfhndings in Matrimony 1
might be cured. Xa. That has been often m.y Cafe. Eu.
And tho' it ought aiway: to be the Care of a Wife, not to
make her Husband uneafy in any Thing ^ yet that ou^ht to
be efpcciaily her Care to ftudy, in conjugal Embraces to
render her lelf by all Ways pofiGble, agreeable and delightful
to her Husband. Xa. To a Man, indeed ! But I have to
do with an untraBable Beaft. Eu. Come, come, leave off
Railing, For the moft part Husbands are made bad, by our
bad Condudl. But to return to our Argument, thofe that
are converfant in the antient Fables of the Poets, tell you
that Venus, (whom they make a Goddefs, that prefides over
Matrimony} had a Girdle or Cefius which was made for her
by Vulcan's Art, in which were interwoven all bewitching
Ingredients of an amorous Medicament, 'and that flie put this
on whenever flie v/ent to bed to her Husband. Xa. I hear
a Fable. Eu. It is true : But hear the Moral of it. Xa.
Tell it me. Eu. That teaches that a Wife ought to ufe all
the Care imaginable to be fo engaging to her Husband in con-
jugal Embraces, that matrimonial AfFedion may be retain'd
and
[ i6p 1
and renew'd, and if there has been any Diftafte or Averfioni
it may be expell'd the Mind. Xa. But where can a Body get
this Girdle. Eu. There is no Need of Witchcrafts and
Spells to procure one. There -is no Enchanttnent fo efifedual
as Virtue^ join'd with a Sweetnefs of Difpofition. Xa. I
can't be able to bring my felf to humour fuch a Husband
as I have got. Eu. But this is for your Intereft, that he
would leave off to be fuch a bad Husband. If you could
by Circe's Art tranform your Husband into a Swine or a
Bear, would you do it ? Xa. I can'c tell, nvhether 1 Jhould
or no. Eji. Which had you rather have, a Swine to your
Husband, or a Man? Xa. In truth, I had rather have a
Man. E«. Well, come on. What if you could by Circe's
Arfs make him a Sober Man of a Drunkard, a frugal
Man of a Spendthrift, a diligent Man of an Idle FeUoiji ?
would you not do it ? Xa. To be fure, I would do it.
But how fhall I attain the Art ? Eu. You have the Art
in your felf, if you would but make Ufe of it. Whether
you will or no he muft be your Husband, and the better
Man you make him, the more you confult your own Ad-
vantage. You only keep your Eyes fix'd upon his Faults,
and thofe aggravate your Averfion to him j and only hold
him by this Handle, which is fuch a one that he cannot
be held by ; but rather take Notice of what good ^alt-
ties he has, and hold him by this Handle, which is a
Handle he may be held by : Before you married him, you
had Time of confidering what his Defeds were. A
Husband is not to be chofen by the Eyes only, but by
the Ears too. Now 'tis your Time to cure him, and not
to find Fault with him. Xa. What Woman ever made
Choice of a Husband by her Ears }■ Eu. She chufes a
Husband by her Eyes, which looks at nothing elfe but his
Perfon and bare Outjide : She chufes him by her Ears, who
carefylly obferves what Reputation he has in the World.
Xa. This is good Advice, but it is too late. Eu. But it is
not too late to endeavour to amend your Husband. It will
contribute fomething to the Matter, if you could have any
Children by him. Xa. I have had one. Eu. When? Xa.
A long Time ago ? Eu. How many Months ? Xa. Why,
about feven. Eu. What do I hear ! You put me in Mind
ot the Joke of the three Months Lying in. Xa. By no
means. Eu. It muft be fo, if you reckon from the Day
of Marriage. Xa. But I had fome private Difcourfe with
him before Marriage. Eu. Are Children got by Talking ?
Xa. He having by Chance got me i7ito a Room by my felf,
began to play with mc, tickling me about the Arm-pits and
Sidesj
C 170 ]
Sides, to make me laugh, and I not being able to bear being
tickled any longer, threw my felf flat upon the Bed, and he
lying upon me, kifs'd me, and I don't know what he did
to me befides j but this is certain, ivith'm a few Days af-
ter, my Belly began to fwell, Eu. Get you gone now,
and flight a Husband, who if he can get Children jefl:ing,
what will he do if he fets about it in earnefi: ? Xa. I fuf-
ped that I am now with Child by him again. Eu. O
brave 1 to a good Soil, here's a good Ploughman to till it.
' Xa. As to this Affair, he's better than I wifli he was. Eu.
Very few Wives have this Complaint to make : But, I
fuppofe, the Marriage Contract: was made between you, be-
fore this happened. Xa. It was made, Eu. Then the Sia
was fo much the lefs. Is your Child a Boy ? Xa. It is.
Eu. That will reconcile you both, if you will but qualify
your felf a little for it. What Sort of Charader do your
Pusband's Companions give him ? And what Company
does he keep when is abroad ? Xa. They give him the
Character of an exceeding good-humoar'd, courteous, ge-
nerous Man, and a true Friend to his Friend. Eu. Thefe
Things give me great Hopes, that he will become fuch as
v/e would have him be. Xa. But I am the only Perfon
he is not fo to. Eu. Do you but be to him what I have
told you, and if he does not begin to be fo to you, . in-
{ke:id of Eulalia ( a good Speaker ), ca.\\ me P/eudola/ia (a.
prating Liar ) j and befides, confider this, that he's but a
young Man yet, I believe not above twenty-four Years of
Age, and docs not yet know Vv^hat it is to be the Mafter of
a Family. You mufl: never think of a Divorce now.
Xa. But I have thought on it a great many Times.
Eu. But if ever that Thought comes into your Mind again,
firfl: of all confider with your felf, what an infignificant
Figure a Woman makes lohefz fie is parted from her Hus-
band. It is the greatefl: Glory of a Matron, to be obe-
dient to her Husband. This Nature didates, and it is the
Will of God, that the Woman fhould wholly depend upon
her Husband : Only think, as it rea/ly is, he is your Hus-
band, you cannot have another. Then call to mind that the
little Boy belongs to you both. What would you do with
him ? Would you take him away with you ? Then will
you defraud your Husband of his own. Will you leave
him to him } Then you will deprive your felf of that, than
which nothing is more dear. Laft of all, tell me, is there
any Body that wiflies you ill ? Xa. I have a Step-Mother,
and a Mother-in-Law, as like her as may be. Eu. And
they wifli you ill, do they ? Xa. They wifh me in my Grave.
Eu.
) ■ '
C «7i ]
Eu. Then think of them likewife. What can you be cble
to do, that would be more grateful to them, than if they
fhould fee you divorc'd from your Husband ; a Widow, nay,
to live (a Widow bewitcht) worfe than a Widow ; for Widows
may marry again ? Xa. I approve of your Advice j butcan'c
bear the Thoughts of being always a Slave. Eu. Recount
what Pains you took before you could teach that Parrot to
prattle. Xa. A great deal indeed. Eu. And yet you think
much to bellow a little Pains to mould your Husband, with
whom you may live a pleafant Life all your. Days. What a
deal of Pains do Men take to render a Horfe tradable to
them : And fhall we think much to take a little Pains to ren-
der our Husbands more agreeable? Xa. What muft I do ?
Eu. I have told you already, take Care that all Things be
neat, and in order at Home, that there be nothing difcompo-
fing, to make him go out of Doors , behave yourfelf eafy
and free to him, always remembring that Refpeit which is
due from a Wife to a Husband. Let all Melancholy and
' ill-tim'd Gaiety be banifhed out of Doors j be not morofe
nor frolickfome. Let your Table be handfomely provided.-
You know your Husband's Palate, drefs that which he likes
beft. Behave yourfelf courceoully and affably to thofe of his
Acquaintance he refpeds. Invite them frequendy to Dinner ;
let all Things be pleafant and chearful at Table. Laftly, if
at any Time he happens to come Home a little merry with Wine,
and fl-iall fall to playing on his Fiddle, do you fing to him, fo
you will gradually inure your Husband to keep at Home, and
alfo leflen his Expences : For he will thus reafon with him-
felf i was not I mad with a Witnefs, who live abroad with a
nafty Harlot, to the apparent Prejudice of my Eftate and
Reputation, when I have at Home a Wife much more enter-
taining and affeftionate to me, with whom I may be enter-
tained more handfomely and more plentifully ? Xa. Do you
think I fhall fucceed, if I try ? Eu. Look to me for that.
^ engage that you ^ill : In the mean Time I'll talk to your
Husband, and put him in mind of his Duty. Xa. I ap-
prove of your Defign ; but take care that he mayn't difco-
ver any Thino- of <ichat has pafi between us two, for he would
throw the Houfe out of the Windows. Eu. Don't fear,
I'll order my Difcourfe fo by Turnings and Windings, that
he fhall tell me himfelf, what Quarrels have happened between
you. When I have brought this about, I'll treat him after
my Way, as engagingly as can be, and I hope, fhall render
him to you better" temper'd : I'll likewife take occafion to tell
a Lie or two in your Favour, how lovingly and ref^efifully
you
[ I70
yoa fpoke of him. Xa. Heavens profper both our Under-
takings Eu. Ic will, I doubt not, if you are not wantina to
yourfelt. ^
The Soldier and Carthufian.
The Argument,
this Colloquy fets out to the Life, the Marine fs of youn?
Men that run into the Wars, and the Life of a pious
Carthufian, which without the love of Study, can't
hut be melancholy and unpleafant. The Manners of Sol-
diers, the Manners and Diet of Carthufans. Advice
tn chufmg a IVay of getting a Livelihood. The Con-
veniencyof a ftngle Life, to he at Mure for Reading
and Meditation. Wicked Soldiers oftentimes hutcher
Men for a pitiful Reward, m daily Danger of a
Soldier s Life. -^
V:he SOLDIER and CARTHUSIAN.
rOL. Good Morrow, my Brother. Cart. Good Mor-
*J row to you, dearCoufin. Sol. I fcarce knew yoa. cTrt
Am I grown fo old m two Years Time ? Sol\^o ■ but
your bald Crown, and your new Drefs, make you look to
me like another fort of Creature. Cart. It r^ay be you
would not know your own Wife, if (lie fhould meet you in a
new Gown Sol No; not ;/ /be w. in fuch a one is yours
Cart. But I know you very well, who are not altered af
to your Drefsr but your Face, and the whole Habit of
C'r H r/'^-^^ ?T "^?"y Colours are you painted with.;*
No Bird had ever fuch a Variety of Feathers. How all is
cut andfafbd! Nothing according to Nature or FaHiion '
your cut Hair, your half-fhav'd Beard, and that Wood upon
^.?"'.TrPf' ^'P? entangled and ftanding out Aragelinc. like
the Whiskers of a Cat. Nor is it one fingle Scar tfe has
disfigured your Face, that you may very 4ll be taken fo
one ot the Samtan Hterati, [q. d. birnt in the Cheek] con'
cerning whom, there is a joking Proverb. Sol. Thus it be-
comes a Man to come back from the Wars, But, pray, tell
■3
[ ^1'^ ]
"me, was there fo great a Scarcity of good Phyfician^ in this
Quarter of the World ? Cart. Why do you ask ? Sold. Be-
caufe you did not get the Difiemper of your Drain cur'd> be-
fore you plung'd yourfelf into this Slavery. Cart. Why, Ao
you think I was mad then ? Sold. Yes, I do. What Occa-
fion was there for you to be buried here, before your Time,
when you had enough in the World to have lived handfomely
upon ? Cart. What, don't you think I live in the World
now ? Sold. No, by Jove. Cart. Tell me why. Sold. Be-
caufe you can't go where you lift. You arc confin'd in this
Place as in a Coop. Befides, your bald Pate, and your
prodigious (irange Drels, your Lonefomenels, your eating
Fifh perpetually, fo that I admire you are not turn'd into a
FiHi. Cart. If Men were turn'd into what they eat, you had
long ago been turned into a Hog, for you us'd to be a mighty
Lover of Pork. Sold. I don't doubt but you have repented
of what you have done, long enough before now, for I find
but very few that don't repent of it. Cart. Tiiis ufually hap-
pens to thofe who plunge themfelves headlong into this kind
of Life, as if they threw theynfehes into a Well ^ but I have
enter'd into it warily and confiderately, having firil made
trial of mylelf, and having duly examined the whole Ratio
of this Way of Living, being twenty-eight Years of Age, ac
which Time, every one may be fuppos'd, to know himfelf.
And as for the Place, you are confined in a fm.all Com-
pafs as well as L if you compare it to the Extent of the
whole World. Nor does it fignify any Thing hov/ large
the Place i"^-, as long as it wants nothing of the Convenien-
cies of L^fe. There are many that feldora ftir out of the
City in which they were born, which if they were prohi-
bited from going out, would be very uneafy, and would be
wonderfully defirous to do it. This is a comrTiOn Humour, that I
am not troubled with. I fancy this Place to be the whole
World to me, and this Map reprefents the Vv^hole Globe oi:
the Earth, which I can travel over in Thought with more
Delight and Security than he that fails to the new-j^«7/^Iflands.
Sold. What you fay as to this, comes pretty near the Truth.
Cart. You can't blame me for fhaving my Head, who vo-
luntarily have your own Hair clipp'd, for Conveniency-fake.
Shaving, to me, if it does nothing elfe, it certainly keeps
my Head more clean, and perhaps more healthful too.
How many Noblemen at Venice fiiave their Heads all over ?
What has ray Garment in it that is monflrous? Does it
not cover my Body } Our Garments are for two Ufes, to
defend us from the Inclcniency of the Weather, and td co-
ver
[ J74 ]
ver our Nakeanefs. Does not this Garment anfwer both
thefe Ends ? But perhaps the Colour offends you. What
Colour is more becoming Chriftians than that which was
given to all in Baptifm ? It has been faid alfo. Take a luhite
Garment:, fo that this Garment puts me in mind of what I
promifed in Baptifm, that is, the perpetual Study of Innocen-
cy. And befides, if you call that Solitude nuhich is only a re-
tiring from the Crowd, -lue haue for this the Example, not
only of our own, but of the ancient Prophets, the Ethnick
Philofophers, and all that had any Regard to the keeping a
good Confcience. Nay, Poets, Aftrologers, and Perfons de-
voted to fuch-like Arts, whenfoever they take in hand any
thing that's great and beyond the Sphere of the common
People, commonly betake themfelves to a Retreat. But why
fliould you call this kind of Life Solitude .!^ The Converfa-
tion of one fingle Friend drives away the Taedium of Soli-
tude. I have here more than fixteen Companions, fit for all I
Manner of Converfation, And beiSdes, I have Friends who
come to vifit me oftner than I would have them, or is con-
venient. Do I then, in your Opinion, live melancholy ?
Sold. But you cannot always have thefe to talk with. Cart.
Nor is it always expedient : For Converfation is the pleafan-
ter, for being fomething interrupted. Sold. You don't think
amifs 'j for even to me myfelf, Flefh relifhes much better af-
ter Lent. Cart. And more than that, when I feem to be
moft alone, I don't want Companions, which are by far
more delightful and entertaining than thofe common Jeflers.
Sold. Where are they ? Cart. Look you, here are the four
Evangelifts. In this Book, he that fo pleafantly commun'd
with the two Difciples in the Way going to Ep2aus, and
inho by his hea'venly Difcourfe caus'd them not to be fenfible
of the Fatigue of their Journey, but made their Hearts burn
within them with a divine Ardour of hearing his fweet Words,
holds Converfation with me. In this I converfe with Fauh
with Jfaiah, and the reft of the Prophets. Here the moft
fweet Chryfo{io7tf converfes with me, and Bafd, and Aufiin,
and Jerome, and Cyprian, and the reft of the Dictators that
are both learned and eloquent. Do you know any fuch
pleafant Companions abroad in the World, that you can have
Converfation with ? Do you think I can be weary of Retire-
ment, in fuch Society as this ? And I am never without it.
Sold. But they would fpeak to me to no Purpofe, who do not
underftand them. Cart. Now/or our Diet, what fignifies .
it with what Food this Body of ours is fed, which is fatisfied
jft'ith very little^ if wc live according to Nature.^ Which of
" us
[i7i]
U5 two k in the beft Plight ? You who live upon Partridges,
Pheafants and Capons ; and I who live upon Fiih ? SoU If
you had a Wife as I have, you would not be fo lufty. Carf.
And for that Reafon, any Food ferves us, let it be never fo
little. Sold. But in the mean time, you live the Life of a
Jevj. Cart. Forbear Refledions : ' If we cannot come up
to Chriftianity, at leaft we follow after it. SoU. You put too
much Confidence in Habits, Meats, Forms of Prayer, and
outward Ceremonies, and negledt the Study of Gofpel Reli-
gion. Cart. It is none of my Bufinefs to judge what others
do : As to myfelf, I place no Confidence in thefe Things, I
attribute nothing to them j but I put my Confidence in Pu-
rity ot Mind, and in Chrifi himfelf. Sold. Why do you ob-
ferve iheje Things then ? Cart. That I may be at Peace with
ray Brethren, and give no Body Offence. I would give no
Offence to any one for the fake of thefe trivial Things, which
it is but a very little Trouble to obfcrve. As v^e are Men,
let us wear what Cloaths we will. Men are fo humour ftme,
the Agreement or Difagreement in the moft minute Mat-
ters, either procures or deflroys Concord. The fhaving of
the Head, or Colour of the Habit does not indeed, of thcm-
felves, recommend me to God : But what would the Peo-
ple fay, if I fhould let my Hair grow, or put on your Ha-
bit ? I have given you my Reafons for my Way of Life ;
now, pray, in your Turn, give me your Reafons for yours,
and tell me, were there no good Phyncians in your Quarter,
when you lifted yourfelf for a Soldier, leaving a young Wife
and Children at home, and was hired for a pitiful Pay to cut
Mens Throats, and that with the Hazard of your own Life too.
For your Bufinefs did not lie among Mulhrooms and Pop-
pies j but armed Men. What do you think is a more un-
happy Way of living) for a poor Pay, to murder a Vellovj
Chrillian, who never did you harm, and. to run yourfelf Bo-
dy and Soul into eternal Damnation ? Sold. Why, it is law-
ful to kill an Enemy. Cavt. Perhaps it may be fo, if he in-
vades your native Country : Nay, and it is pious too, to fight
for your Wife, Children, your Parents and Friends, your
Religion and Liberties, and the publick Peace. But what is
all that to your fighting for Money .^ If you had been knock'd
on the Head, I would not have given a rotten Nut to redeem
the -jery Soul of you. Sold. No ? Cart. No, by Chrifb, I
would not. Now which do you think is the harder Task,
to be obedient to a good Man, which we call Prior, who
calls us to Prayers, and holy Le6!:ures, the Hearing of the
laving Doctrine, and to fing to the Glory of God : Or, to
be
[ >7n
be under the command of fome barbarous OfScer, Wlio of-
ten calls you out to fatiguing Marches at Midnight, and fends
you out, and commands you back at hisPleafure, expofesyou
to the Shot of great Guns, affigns you a Station where you
muft either kill or be killed ? Sold. There are more Evils than
you have mentioned yet. Cart. If I fhall happen to deviate from
the Difcipline of my Order, my Punilhment is 07^/y Admonition,
or fomefuch flight Matter : But in War, if you do any Thing
contrary to the General's Orders, you muft either be hang'd for
it, or run the Gantlope j for it would be a favour to have
your Head cut off. Sold. I can't deny 'what you fay to be
true. Cart. And now your Habit befpeaks, that you han't
brought much Money home, after all your brave Adven-
tures. Sold. As for Money, I have not had a Farthing this
good while; nay, I have gotten a good deal into Debt, and
for that Reafon, I come hither out of my Way, that you
might furnifti me with fome Money to bear my Charges.
Cart. I wifli you had come out of your Way hither, when
you hurried yourfelf into that wicked Life of a Soldier. But
how come you fo bare ? Sold. Do you ask that ? Why, what-
foever I got of Pay, Plunder, Sacrilege, Rapine and Theft,
was fpent in Wine, Whores and Gaming. Cart. O mifera-
ble Creature ! And all this while your Wife, for whofe Sake
God commanded you to leave Father and Mother, being
forfaken hy you, fat grieving at home with her young Chil-
dren. And do you think this is Living, to be involved in fo
many Miferies, and to ivallow in fo great Iniquities ? Sold,
The having fo many Companions of my Wickednefs, made
me infenfible o?my Evil. Cart. But I'm afraid your Wife won't
know you again. Sold. Why fo ? Cart. Becaufe your Scars
have made you the Picture of quite another Man, What a
Trench have you got here in your Forehead ? It looks as if
you had had a Horn cut out. Sold. Nay, if you did but
know the Matter, you would congratulate me upon this Scar.
Cart. Why fo ? Sold. I was within a Hair's Breadth of lofing
jny Life. Cart. Why, what Mifchief 'wai there ? Sold.
As one was drawing a Steel Crofs-bow, it broke, and a,
Splinter of it hit me in the Forehead. Cart. You have got
a Scar upon your Cheek that is above a Span long. Sold.
I got this Wound in a Battel. Cart. In what Battel, in
the Field? Sold. No, but in a Quarrel that arofe at Dice.
Cart. And I fee I can't tell what fort of Rubies on your
Chin. Sold. O they are nothing. Cart. I fufpedt that yoU;
have had the Pox. Sold. You guefs very right. Brother. Ic
was the third time I had that Diftemper, and it had like
,. -' tc
t "^77 ]
to have coft me my Life. Gart. But how came it, that you
walk roftooping, as if you -were ninety Years of Age j or
like a Mower, or as if your back was broke? Sold. The
Difeafe has contracted my Nerves to that degree. Cart. In
truth you have undergone a wonderful Metamorphofis : For-
merly you were a Horfeman, and now of a Centaur, you
are become a kind of femireptile Animal. Sold. This is the
Fortune of War. Cart. Nay, 'tis the Madnefs of your own
Mind. But what Spoils will you carry Home to your Wife
and Children "> Sold. The Leprofy, for that Scab is only
a Species of the Leprofy ; and it is only not accounted fo,
becaufe it is the Difeafe in Fafliion, and efpecially among
Noblemen. Cart. And -for this very Reafon, it fhould be
the more carefully avoided : And now you will infedt with
" it, thofe that ought to be the deareft to you of any in the
World, and you yourfelf will all your Days carry about a
rotten Carcafs. Sold. Prithee, Brother, have done chiding
me. I have enough upon me without Chiding. Cart. As
to thofe Calamities, I have hitherto taken Notice of, they
•only relate to the Body : But what a fort of a Soul do you
bring back with you ? How putrid and ulcered ? With how
"many Wounds is that fore? Sold. Juft as clean as a Vatis
Common-fliore in Mahurtush Road, or a common Houfe
of Office. Cart. I am afraid it ftinks worfe in the Noftrils
of God and his Angels. Sold. Well, but I have had chi-
ding enough, now fpeak to the Matter, of fomething to bear
my Charges. Cart. I have nothing to give you, but HI ga
and try what the Prior will do. Sold. If any thing was to
be given, your Hands would be ready to receive it; but
now there are a great many Difficulties in the Way, when
fomething is to be paid. Cart. As to what others do, lee
them look to that, I have no Hands, either to give or take
Money: But we'll talk more of thefe Matters after Dinner,
for it is now Time to fit down at Table. -
'N Thiktytnus
['78 3
^hlktymtis and ^feudochetts.
The Argument.
ffhis Colloquy fets forth the Difpofttion and Nature of
a Liar^ who fe ems to be born to lie for crafty Gain*
A Liar is a 'Thief. Gain got by Lyings is bafer
than that which is got by a 'tax upon Urine. An
egregious Method of deceiving is laid open. Cheating
^radefmen live better than honefl ones,
^HILETYMUS ^«J PSEUDOCHEUS.
Pull,. From what Fountain dees this Flood of Lies
flow ? Ffeud. From whence do Spiders Webs pro-
ceed ? Vhil. Then it is not the VroduB of Art, but of Na-
ture. Tfeud. The Seeds indeed proceed from Nature j but
Art and Ufe have /^nlarg'd the Faculty. Fhil. Why» are you
not alham'd of-it? Vfeud. No more than aCuckowisofher
linging. Thil. But you can alter your Note upon every Oc-
cafion. The Tongue of Man was given him to fpeak the
Truth. Vfeud. Ay, to fpeak thofe Things that tend to his
Profit : The Truth is not to be fpoken at all Times. Thil.
It is fometimes for a Man's Advantage to have pilfering
Hands ; and the old Proverb is a Witnefs, that that is a
Vice that is Coufin-German to yours of Lying. Tfeud. Both
thefe Vices are fupported by good Authorities : One has
Vlyjfes, fo much commended by Homer, and the other has
Mercury, that was a God, for its Example, if we believe the
Poets. Thil. Why then do People in common curfe Liars, ^
and hang Thieves ? Tfeud. Not becaufe they lie or fteal, 1
but becaufe they do it bunglingly or unnaturally, not right-
ly underftanding the Art. Phil. Is there any Author that
teaches the Art of Lying ? Tfeud. Your Rhetoricians have
inftru6ted in the beft Part of the Art. Thil. Thefe indeed
prefent us with the Art of well Speaking. Tfeud. True :
And the good Part of fpeaking well, is to lie cleverly.
Phil. What is clever Lying ? Tfeud. Would you have me
define it? Thil. I would have you do it. Tfeud. It is to
lie fo, that you may get Profit by it, and not be caught ia
a Lie,
a Lis. Th'tl. But a great many are caught in lying every Day.
Pfeud. Thafs becaufe they are not perfed Mafters of the Art.
Vhil. Are you a perfed Mafter in it ? Tfeud. In a Manner.
Thil. See, if you can tell me a Lie, fo as to deceive me.
Pfeud. Tes, beit of Men, I can deceive you yourfelf, if I
have a Mind to it. Fhil. Well, tell me fome Lie or other
then. Tfeud. Why, I have told one already, and did you not
catch me in it ? Phil. No. Pfeud. Come on, liften atten-
tively ; now I'll begin to lie the?!. Phil. I do liften atten-
tively i tell one. Pfeud. JVhj, I have told another Lie, and
you have not caught mc. Phil. In truth, I hear no Lie yet.
Pfeud. You would have heard fome, if you underftood the
Arc. Phil. Do you fhew it me then. Pfeud. Firft of all, I
call'd you the beft of Men, is not that a Twinging Lie, when
you are not fo much as good ? And if you were good, you
could not be faid to be the beft, there are a thoufand others
better than you. Phil. Here, indeed, you have deceiv'd me.
Pfeud. Well, now try if you can catch me again in another
Lie. Phil. I cannot. P/eud. I want to have you Hiew that
Sharpnefs of Wit, that you do in other Things. Phil. 1 con-
feCs, I am deficient. Shew me. Pfeud. When I faid, now I
will begin to lie, did I noc tell you a fwinging Lie then,
when I had been accuftomed to lie for fo many Years, and
I had alfo told a Lie. juft the Moment before. Phil. An
admirable piece of Witchcraft. Pfeud. Well, but now you
have been forewarn'd, prick up your Ears, liften attentively,
and fee if you can catch me in a Lie. Phil. I do liften at-
tentively; fay on. Pfeud. I have faid already, and you have
imitated me in lying. Vhil. Why, you'll perfuide me I have
neither Ears nor Eyes hy aiidby. Pfud. When Mens Ears
are immovable, and can neither be prick'd up nor letdown j
I told a Lie in bidding you prick up your Ears. Phil. The
whole Life of Man is full of fuch Lies. Pfeud Not only
fuch as thefe, O good Man, for chefe are but Jokes : But ■
there are thofe that bring Profit. Phil The Gain that is got
by lying, is more fordid, than that which is got by laying aTax
on Urine. Pfeud. That is true, I own ;, but then 'cis to rhofe
that han't the Art of lying. Vhil. What Art is this that you
underftand ? Pfeud. It is not fie I lliould teach you for no-
thing; pay me, and you fhall hear it. Phil. I will not pay"
for bad Arts. Pfeud. Then will you give away your Eftate ?
Phil. I am not fo mad rieither. Pfeud. But my Gain by this
Art is more certain than yours from your Eftate. Vhil. Well,
keep your Art to yourfelf, only give me a Specimen that T
may underftand, that what you fay, is not all Pretence. Pfeud.
Here's a Specimen for you : I concern cnyfelf in all Manner
N 2 of
[ i8o 3
cf Bufinefs, I buy, I fell, I receive, I borrow, I takePawfts.
i'hil. Well, what then? Tfeud. And in thefe Affairs I en-
trap thofe by whom I cannot eafily be caught. Thil. Who
are thofe ? Tfeud. The foft-headed, the forgetful, the un-
thinking, thofe that live a great Way oflF, and thofe that are
dead. Phil. The Dead, to be fure, tell no Tales. Pfeud. If
I fell any Thing upon Credit, I fet it down carefully in niy .^
Book of Accounts. Fhil. And what then .? Ffeud. When
the Money is to be paid, I charge the Buyer with more than
he had. If he is unthinking or forgetful, my Gain is certain.
Fhil. But what if he catches you ? Pfeud. I produce my
Book of Accounts. Phil. What if he informs you, and
proves to your Face he has not had the Goods you charge
him with. Pfeud. I fland to it flifly; for Bafhfulnefs is alto-
gether an unprofitable ^ialif cation in this Art. My laft
Shift is, I frame fome Excufe or other. Phil. But when you
are caught openly ? Pfeud. Nothing's more eafy, I pretend
my Servant has made a Miftake, or I myfelf have a treache-
rous Memory : It is a very pretty Way to jumble the Ac-
counts together, and this is an eafy Way to impofe on a Per-
fon : As for Example, fome are crofs'd out, the Money be- i
ing paid, and others have not been paid ; thefe I mingle one
v/ith another at the latter End of the Book, nothing being
crofs'd out. When the Sum is caft up, we contend about
it, and I for the mofl Part get the better, the' it be by for-
fwearing myfelf Then beBdes, I have this Trick, I make
up my Account with a Perfon when he is juft going a Jour-
ney, and not prepared for the Settling it. For as for me, I
am always ready. If any thing be left with me, I conceal
it, and reftore it not again. It is a long Time before he can
come to the Knowledge of it, to whom it is fent j and, af-
ter all, if I can't deny the receiving of a Thing, I fay it is
lofl, or elfe affirm I have fent that which I have not fent,
and charge it upon the Carrier. And laflly, if I can no
Way avoid refloring it, I reflore but part of it. Fhil. A
very fine Art. Pfeud. Sometimes I receive Money twice
over, if I can : Firfl at Home, afterwards there where I have
gone, and I am every where. Sometinies length of Time puts
Things out of Remembrance : The Accounts are perplexed,
one dies, or goes a long Journey : And if nothing elfe will
hit, in the mean time I make ufe of other People's Money.
I bring fome over to my Interefl, by a fliew of Generofity,
that they may help me out in lying ; but it is always at other
Peoples Cofl ^ of my own, I would not give my own Mo-
ther a Doit. And tho' the Gain in each Particular may be
but fmalli but being many put together, makes a good round
Sum
C '8. ]
Sum ; for as I faid, I concern myfelf in a great many Af-
fairs j and befides alU that I may not be catch'd^ as there are
many Tricks, this is one of the chief. J intercepj: all. the
Letters I can, open them, and read them. If any Thing
in them makes againft me, I deftroy them, or keep them a
long Time before I deUver them : And befides all this, I
fow Difcord between thofe that live at a great diftance one
from another. Thil. What do you get by that ? Tfeud.
There is a double Advantage in it. Firft of all, if that is
not performed that I have promifed in another Perfon's Name,
or in whofe Name I have received any Prefent, I lay it to
this or that Man's Door, that it was not performed, and To
thefe Forgeries I make turn to a confiderable Account. Thil.
But what if he denies it ? Tfeud. He's a great Way off, as
fuppofe at Bafd-j arid I promife to give it in Englajtd. And
fo it is brought about, that both being incenfed, neither will
believe the one the other, if I accufe {hem of any Thing.
Noiu you have a Specimen of my Art. Thil. But this Arc
is what we Dullards call Theft j who call a Fig a Fig, and a
Spade a Spade. Tfeud. O Ignoramus in the Law! Can you
bring an Adion of Theft for Trover and Converfion, or for
one that having borrow'd a Thing forfwears it, that puts a
Trick upon one, by fome fuch Artifice ? Thil. He ought
to be fued for Theft. Tfeud. Do hut then fee the Prudence of i
Artifts. From thefe Methods there is more Gain, or at leaft
as much, and le{s Danger. Thil. A Mifchief take you, with
your cheating Tricks and Lies, for 1 han't a mind to learn
'em. Good by to ye. Tfeud. Tou 7naj go on, and be pl^.gii'd
V6/ith your ragged I'ruth. In the mean time, I'll live mer-
rily upon my thieving, lying Tricks, with flight ot Hand.
N 3- Th3
[ ISO
The Shipwreck.
The Argument.
Naufragium expofes the Dangers of thofe that go to
Sea 5 the •various and foolijh Superjiition of Ma-^
riners. An elegant Defcription of a Storm. 'They
indeed run a Rifque that throin their 'valmble Com"
modifies into the Sea. Mariners impioujly invoke the
Virgin Mary, St. Chriftopher, avid the Se.a itfelf.
Saints are not to he -prafd'to^ hut God alone.
ANTONY and ADOLPH.
r
'^yjNT. You tell dreadful Stories : Is this going to Sea ?
•*^ God forbid that ever any fuch thing iliould come into
my Mind. ^dol. That which I have related, is but a Di-
verfion, in Comparifon to what you'll hear prefcnrly. u^nt.
I have heard Calamities enough already, my F/?//^ trembles to
hear you relate them, as if I were in danger my^-If. ^doL
But Dangers that are paft, are pleafant to be [nought on.
One thing happen'd that Night, that almoft put the Pilot
out of all Hopes of Safety. Ant. Pray what was that ?
yldoL The Night was fomeching lightifh, and one of the Sai-
lors was got into the Skuttle (fo I think they call it) at the
Main-Top-Maft, looking out if he could fee any Land ; a
certain Ball of Fire began to Hand by him, which is the worft
Sign in the World to Sailors, if it be fingle ; but a very good
One, if double. The Antients believed thefe to be Cajlor
and Pollux. Ant. What have they to do with Sailors, one
of which was a Horfeman, and the other a Prize-Fighter ?
Adol. It was the Pleafure of Poets, fo to feign. The
Steerfman who fat at the Hehm, calls to him. Mate, fays
he, (lor fo Sailors call one another) don't you fee what a
Companion you have by your Side. I do fee, fays he, and
I pray that he may be a lucky one. By and by this fiery
Ball glides down the Ropes, and rolls itfelf over and over
GJofe to rhe Pilot, Ant. And was not he frighted out of
his Wits ? Adol. Sailors are us'd to terrible Sights. It (lopp'd
a little there, then roll'd itfelf all round the Sides of the
Shipi
I «83 1
Ship ', after that, flipping through the Hatches, it vaniflied
away. Abouc Noon the Storm began to increafe. Did you
ever fee the Alps ? Ant. I have feen them. Adol. Thofe
Mountains are Mole Hills, if they be compar'd to the
Waves of the Sea. As oft as we were tofs'd up, onemighc
have touch'd the Moon with his Finger i and as oft as we
were let fall down into the Sea, we feem'd to be going
diredly down to HelL the Earth gaping to receive us. Anf.
O mad Folks, that trull themfelves to the Sea ! Adol. Tha
Mariners ftriving in vain with the Storm, at length the Pi-
lot, all pale as Death comes to us. Ant. That Palenefs
prefages fome great Evil, Adol. My Friends, fays he, lam
DO longer Mafter of my Ship, the Wind has got the better
of me i all that we have now to do, is to place our Hope
in God; and every one to prepare himfelf for Death. A72t.
This was cold Comfort. Adol. But in the firft Place, fays
he, we muft lighten the Ship j NecelTity requires it, tho'-'tis
a hard Portion. It is better to endeavour to fave our Lives
with the lofs of our Goods, than to perifh V7ith them. The
Truth perfuaded, and a great many Casks of rich Merchan-
dize were thrown over-Board. A7it. This was cafting away,
according to the Letter. Adol. There was in the Coni-
pany a certain Italian, that had been upon an EmbafTy to
the King of Scotland. He had a i^hole Cabinet full of Plate,
Rings, Cloth, and rich v/earing Apparel. A?it. And he, I
'warrant ye, was unwilling to come to a Compofiticn with
the Sea. Adol. No, he ijcould not; he had a Mind either to
fink or fwim with his beloved Riches. Anf. What /d'/^ the
Pilot /o this? Adol. IF you and your Trinkets were to drown
by yourfelves, fays he, here's no Boay would hinder you ;
but it is not fit that we fliould ran theRifque of our Lives,
for the Sake of your Cabinet : If you won't confent, we'll
throw you and your Cabinet into the Sea together. Ant.
Spoken like a Tarpawlin. Adol. So the Italian fubmitted,
and threw hisGoodsover-Board, with many a bitter Curfe to the
Gods both above and below, that he had committed his Life to
fo barbarous an Element. Ant. I know the I;<i/jdr« Humour.
Adol. The Winds were nothing the left boifterousfor our Pre-
fents, but by and by burfb our Cordage, and threw down our
Sails. A7it. Lamentable! Adol. Then the Pilot comes to
us again. Ant. What, v.'ith another Preachment.^ Adol. He
gives us a Salute ; my Friends, fays he, the Time exhorts us
that every one of us ihould recommend himfelf to God,
and prepare for Death. Being ask'd by fome that were not
ignorant in Sea Affairs, hovv' long he thought iheShip mi3;hc
be kept above Water? He faid, he could promife nothing,
N 4 but
but that it could not be done above three Hours! 'Ant.
This wa^; yet a harder Chapter than the former. Adol When
he had faid this, he orders to cut the Shrouds and the Maft
down by the Board, and to throw them. Sails and all, into
the Sea. Ajtt. Why was this done ? Adol. Becaufe, the Sail
either being gone or torn, it would only be a Burden, but
not of Ufe^ all our Hope was in the Helm. Ant. What
did the PafTengers do in the mean Time ? AM. There you
might have feen a wretched Face of Things ^ the Mariners,
they ijijere finging their Salve Uegina, imploring the Virgin
Mother, calling her the Star of the Sea, the Qiieen of Hea-
ven, the Lady ofthe World, the Haven of Health, and ma-
ny other flattering Titles, which the facred Scriptures never
attributed to her. Ant. What has (he to do with the Sea,
who, as I believe, never went a Voyage in her Lifi ? AdpL
In ancient Times, Vejjus took care of Mariners, becaufe fhe.
was believ'd to be born of the Sea, and becaufe flie left off
to take Care* of them, the Virgin Mother was put in her
Place, that was a Mother, but not a Virgin. A?!t. You
joke. Adol. Some were lying along upon the Boards, wor-
fl\ipping the Sea, pouring all they had into it, and flattering
it, as if it had been fome incenfed Prince. Ant. What did ^
they fay. Adol. O moft merciful Sea! O moft generous Sea!
O moflrich Sea ! O moft beautiful Sea, be pacified, fave us^
and a deal of fuch Stuff they fung to the deaf Ocean. Ant.
Ridiculous Superftition ! What did the reft do ? Adol. Some
did nothing but fpew, and fome made Vows. There was
an BnghfJjman there, that promis'd golden Mountains to our A
Ijzdy of TValJingham, fo he did but get alhore alive. Others
promis'd a great many Things to the Wood of the Crofs,
which v.as in fuch a Place ; others again, to that which
was in fuch a Place , and the fame was done by the
Virgin Alary, which reigns in a great many Places, and i
they think the Vow is of no Effed, unkfs the Place be i
mentioned. Ant. Ridiculous ! As if the Saints did not
dwell in Heaven. Adol. Some made Promifes to become
Carthujiai^s. There was one who promifed he would go a
Filgrimage to St. Jamss at Compojlella, bare Foot and bare
Headed, cloth'd in a Coat of Mail, and begging his Bread
all ths Wfl)'. Ant. Did no Body make any mention of Sr.
Chrifiopher. Adol. Yes, I heard one, and I could not for-
bear laughing, who bawling out aloud, left Sr. Chrijlopber
(Irould not hear him, promifed him, who is at the Top
of a Church at Far is, rather a Mountain than a Statue, a
Wax Taper 3^s big as he v/as himfelf: When he had bavvl'd
out this over and over as loud as he could, an Acquain-^
tancQ
C isj ]
tance of his jogg'd him on the ElboW:, and caution'd him •
Bave a Care what you promifcj for if you fliould fell all you
have in the World, you will not be able to pay for it. He
anfwer'd him foftly;, left St. Chrifiopher fhould hear him^ you
Fool, fays he, do you think I mean as I fpeak, if I once got
fafe to Shore, I would not give him fo much as a tallow
Candle. Ant. O Blockhead ! I fancy he wis a Hollander.
Adol. No, he was a Zealander. Ant. I wonder no Body
thought of St. Vaul, who has been at Sea, and having fut-
fered Shipwreck, leapt on Shore. For he being not unac-
quainted with the Diftrefs, knows how to pity thofe that are
in it. Adol. He was not fo much as named. Ant. Were
they at their Prayers all the while ? Adol. Ay, as if it had
been for a Wager. One fung h'n. Hail ^eeji; another, I
helieve in God. There werefome who had certain particular
Prayers not unlike magical Charms againft Dangers. A7tt.
How Affliction makes Men religious ! In Profperity we nei-
ther think of God nor Saint, But what did you do all this
while ? Did you not make Vows to fome Saints ? AdoL
No, none all. Ant. Why fo ? Adol. I make no Bargains
with Saints. For what is this but a Bargain in Form. ? I'll
give you, if you do fo andfo ; or I will do fo andfo, if you
do fo andfo : I'll give you a wax Taper, if I fwim out alive j
ril go to Eo7?ie, if you fave me. A^it. Bat did you call upon
none of the Saints for Help. Adol. No, not Jo much as that
neither. Ant. Why fo ? Adol. Becaufe Heaven is a large
Tlace, and if I fhould recommend my Safety to any Saint, as
fuppofe, to St. Feter, who perhaps, would, hear fooneft, be-
caufe he ftands at the Door j before he can come to God
Almighty, or before he could tell him my Condition, I may
be loft. Ant. What did you do then ? Adol. I e'en went
the next Way to God the Father, faying. Our Father luhich
art in Heaven. There's none of the Saints hears fooner than
he does, or more readily gives what is ask'd for. A7it.
But in the mean Time did not your Confcience check you ?
Was you not afraid to call him Father, whom you had of-
fended with fo many Wickedneffes } Adol. To fpeak in-
genuoufly, my Confcience did a little terrify, me zx. jh-fi, but
I prefently took Heart again, thus reafcning with my felf ;
' There is no Father fo angry v/irh his Son, but if he fees him
in Danger of being drowned in a River or Pond, he will
take him, tko' it be by the Hair of the Head, and throw
him out upon a Bank. There was no Body among them all
behaved her felf more compofed than a Woman, who had
a Child fucking at her Breaft. A7tt. What did flie do ?
Adol. She only neither bav^'l'd, nor wept, nor made Vows,
but
[ .8^ ]
but hugging her little Boy, pray'd foftly. In the mean Time
the Ship dalhing ever and anon againft the Ground, the Pi-
late being afraid fhe .would be beat all to Pieces, under-
girded her with Cables from Head to Stern, ^nt. That
was a fad Shift ! Adol. Upon this, up ftarts an old Prieft
about threefcore Years of Age, his Name was Adam. He
flrips hirafelf to his Shirt, throws away his Boots and Shoes,
and bids us all in like manner to prepare our felves for fwira-
ming. Then ftanding in the middle of the Ship, he preach'd
a Sermon to us, upon the five Truths of the Benefit of
Confeffion, and exhorted every Man to prepare himfelf, for
either Life or Death. There was a Dominican there too,
and they confefs'd thofe that had a Mind to it. Ant. What
did you do ? Adol. I feeing that every thing was in a Hur-
ry, confefs'd privately to God, condemning before him my
Iniquity, and imploring his Mercy. A-at, And whither
fliould you have gone, do you think, if you had perifhed ?
Adol. I left that to God, 'who is my Judge j I would not be
my own Judge. But I was not without comfortable Hopes,
neither. While thefe Things were tranfadting the Steers-
man comes to us again all in Tears ; Prepare your felves
every one of you, fays he, for the Ship will be of no Ser-
vice to us for a quarter of an Hour. For now fhe leak'd in
feveral Places. Prefently after this he brings us Word that he
faw a Steeple a good Way off, and exhorts us to implore
the Aid or that Saint, whoever it was, who had the Pro-
tedion of that Temple. They all fall down and pray to the i
unknown Saint. Ajit. Perhaps he would have heard ye, if
ye had call'd upon him by his Name. Adol. But that we did
rot know. In the mean Time the Pilate fleers the Ship,
torn and leaking every where, and ready to fall in Pieces,
if flie had not been undergirt with Cables, as much as he
could toward that Place. Ant. A miferable Condition : Adol.
We were now come fo near the Sho^r, that the Inhabitants of
the Place could fee us in Diftrefs, and ran down in Throngs
to the utmoft Edge of the Shoar, and holding up Gowns
and Hats upon Spears, invited us to make towards them, and
ftretching out their Arms towards Heaven, fignified to us
that they pitied our Misfortune. A7it. I long to know what
happened. Adol. The Ship was now every where full of
Water, that we were no fafer in the Ship than if we had
been in the Sea. Ant. Noiv was your Time to betake your
felf to divine Help. Adol. Ay, to a wretched one. The |
Sailors emptied the Ship's Boat of Water, and let it down in- "
to the Sea. Every Body was for getting into ir, the Mari-
ners cry'd out amain, they'll fink the Boat, it will not hold
I lb
[ i87 ]
fb many i that every one fhould cake what he could getl
and fwim /or it. There was no Time now for long Delibe-
ration. One gets an Oar, another a Pole, another a Gutter,
another a Bucket, another a Plank, and every one relying
upon their Security, they commit themfelves to the Billows,
^nt. But what became of the Woman that was the only
Perfon that made no Bawling ? Adol. She got to Shoar the
firft of them all. ^nt. How could Ihe do that ? Adol,
We fet her upon a broad Plank, and ty'd her on fo fafl: thac
{he could not eafily fall off, and we gave her a Board in her
Hand to make ufe of inftead of an Oar, and wifliing her
good Succefs, we fet • her afloat, thrufting her off from the
Ship with Poles, that flie might be clear of it, whence was
the greatefi Danger. And fhe held her Child in her left
Hand, and row'd with her right Hand. Ant. O Virago !
Adol. Now when there was nothing elfi left, one pull'd up
a wooden Image of the Virgin Mary, rotten and rat-eaten,
and embracing it in his Arms, try'd to fwim upon it. Anti
Did the Boat get fafe to Land ? Adol. None perifh'd fooner
than they that were in that, and there were above thirty-two
that had got -into it ? Ant. By what bad Accident was tha:
brought about ? Adol. It was overfet by the rolling of the
Ship, before they could get clear of it. Ant. A fad Acci-
dent : But how then ? Adol. While I was taking Care for
others, I had like to have been loft my felf. Ant. How
fo ? Adol. Becaufe there was nothing left that was fit for-
fwimming. Ant. There Corks would have been of good
Ufe. Adol. In that Condition I would rather have had a
forry Cork than a gold Candleftick. I look'd round about
me, at length I bethought my felf of the Stump of the Maft,
and becaufe I could not get it out alone, I took a Partner,
upon this we both plac'd our felves, and committed our felves
to the Sea. I -held the right End, and my Companion the
left End. While we lay tumbling and toiEng, the old
preaching Sea-Prieft threw himfelf upon our Shoulders. He
was a huge Fellow. We cry out, who's that third Perfon ?
He'll drown us all. But he very calmly bids us be eafy, for
there was Room enough, God will be with us, Ajit. How
came he to be fo late ? Adol. He was to have been in the
Boat with the Dominican. For they all paid him this De-
ference. But tho' they had confei^'d themfelves in the Ship,
yet having forgotten I know not what Circumftances, they
confefs'd over again at the Ship-fide, and each lays his Hand
upon the other, and while this was doing the Boat was over-
turn'd. This I had from Adam himfelf. Ant. What be-
came of the Dominican ? Adol. As the ianae Man told me,
having
[ i88 ]
having implor'd the Help of his Saints, and ftript himfelf, he
threw himfelf naked into the Sea. Ant. What Saints did he
call upon ? Adol. St. Dom'mkk, St. Thomas, St. Vincent,
and one of the Peters, but I can't tell which : But his
chief Reliance was upon Catherina Senenjls. Ant. Did he
not remember Chrifi. Adol. Not, as the old Prieft told
ine. Ant. He would have fwam better if he had thrown
off his fandified Coul : But if that had been laid afide,
how fhould Catherine of Siena have known him ? But go on \
and tell me about your felf. Adol. While we were yet tum-
bling and tojjtng near the Ship, which roll'd hither and thi-
ther at the Mercy of the Waves, the Thigh of him that held
the left End of the Stump of the Mafi was broken by a great
Spike, and fo that made him let go his Hold. The old Prieft
wifhing him everlafting Reft, took his Place, encouraging
me to maintain my Poft on the right Hand refolutely, and
to ftrike out my Feet ftoutly. In the mean Time we drank
in abundance of Salt-water. For Neptune had provided us
not only a Salt-bath, but a Salt-potion too, altho' the old
Prieft prefcrib'd a Remedy for it. Ant. What was that ?
Adol. Why, as often as a Billow met us, he turn'd his Head
and (hut his Mouth. Ant. You tell me of a brave old Fel-
low. Adol. When we had been fome Time fwimming at
this Rate, and had made fome Way, the old Prieft being a
very tall Man, cries out. Be of good Heart, I feel Ground ;
but I durft not hope for fuch a Bleffing. No, no, fays I, we
are too far from Shoar to hope to feel Ground. Nay, fays
he, I feel the Ground with my Feet. Said I, perhaps it is
fome of the Chefts that have been roU'd thither by the Sea,
Nay, fays he, I am fure I feel Ground by the Scratching of
my Toes. Having floated thus a litde longer, and he had
felt the Bottom again. Do you do what you pleafe, fays he,
ril leave you the whole Maft, and wade for it. And fo he
took his Opportunity, at the Ebbing of the Billows, he made
what Hafte he could on his Feet, and when the Billows
came again, he took hold of his Knees with his Hands, and
bore up againft the Billows, hiding himfelf under them as Sea
Gulls and Ducks do, and at the Ebbing of the Wave, he
would ftart up and run for it. I feeing that this fucceeded fq
well to him, followed his Example. There ftood upon the
Shoar Men, who had long Pikes handed from one to another,
which kept them firm againft the Force of the Waves, ftrong ,
bodied Men, and accuftom'd to the Waves, and he that was
laft of them held out a Pike to the Perfon fwimming towards
him. All that came to Shoar, and laying hold of that, were
drawn fafely to dry Lajid. Some were fav'd this Way.
Ant!
[ i8p3
'Ant. How many ? ^Adol. Seven. But two 6f thefe fainted
away being brought to the Fire. Ant. How many were in
the Ship? 'Addl. Fifty-eight. Ant. O cruel Sea. At leafl:
it might have been content with the Tithes, which are enough
for Priefts. Did it reftore fo few out of fo great a Num-
ber ? Adol. There we had Experience of the wonderful
Humanity of the Nation, that fupply'd us with all Neceflaries
with ex'ceeding Chearfulnefs ^ as Lodging, Fire, Victuals,
Cloaths, and Money to bear our Charges 'when lue went aiuay.
Ant. What Country was it. Adol. Holland. Ant. There's
no l<[atmt more human, altho' they are encompafe'd with
fuch fierce Nations. I fancy you won't be for going to Sea
again. Adol. No, unlefs God fhall fleafe to deprive me of
my Reafon. Ant. I had rather hear fuch Stories than feel
them.
DIVER'
I 1^0 ]
D I r E R S O R I A
The Argument. . ■
i
'T'hls Colloquy Jhews the 'various Cuftoms of Nations i^
and their Civility in treating Strangers. Jin Inn at
Lcyden 'whefe are nothing but Women, ^he Man'
mrs of the French 'Inns^ who are us'd to tell StO'
ries, and break Jefls. 'I'he Gerftians, far more
mcivil in treating 'travellers^ being rude^ and wholly
inhofpitable : The Guefts look after their own Horfes :
The Method of receiving them into the Stove : They
provide no Supper j till they know many Guefts they
Jhall have : jill that come that Nighty fit down to
Supper together : All pay alike^ tho^ one drinks twice
as much Wine as another does.
BERTULPH and WILLIAM.
jDEUT. 1 wonder what is the Fancy of a great many^
•^ for ffaying two 01* three Days at Ljovs ? When I have
once fet out on a Journey, I an't at Reft till I come to
my Journey's End. Ulll. Nay, I wonder as much, that any
Body can get away from thence. Bert. But why fo ? IVill
Becaufe that's a Place the Companions of Ulyjfes could noc
have got away from. There are Syrens. No Body is better
entertain'dat-his own Houfe, than he is there at an Inn. Bert.
What is done there } Will. There's a Woman always waiting
at Table, which makes the Entertainment plcafant with Rail-
leries, and pleafant Jefts. And the Women are very hand-
fome there. Firft the Miftrefs of the Houfe came and bad
us welcome, and to accept kindly what Fare we fhould have ;
after her, comes her Daughter, a very fine Woman, of fo
handfome a Carriage, and fo pleafant in Difcourfe, that fhe
would make even Cato himfelf merry, 'u)ere he there : And
they don't talk to you as if you were perfect Strangers,
but as thofe they have been a long Time acquainted with,
and familiar Friends. Bert. O, I know the French Way of
<Givility very 'well. Will. And becaufe they can't be always
with
t ^9^ ]
with you, by reafon of the other Affairs of the Houifea
and the welcotning of other Guefts, there comet a Lafe,
that fupplies the Place of the Daughter, till fhe is at Lei-
fure to return again. This Lafs is fo well inftrudted in
the Knack of Repartees, that (he has a Word ready for
every Body, and no Conceit comes amifs to her. The
Mother, you muji know, was fomewhat in Years. Berf^
But what was your Table furnifh'd with ? For Stories fill
no Bellies. T'Pill. Truly, fo fplendid, that I was amaz'd
that they could afford to entertain their Guefts fo, for fo
fmall a Price. And then after Dinner, they entertain a
Man with fuch facetious Difcourfe, that one cannot be
tired ; that I feemed to be at my own Houfe, and not
in a ftrange Place. Bert. And how tvevt Matters in your
Chambers ? Will. Why, there was every where fome pret-
ty Lafs or other, giggling and playing wanton Tricks ?
They ask'd us if we had any foul Linnen to wafh ; which
they wafh and bring to us again : In a word, we faw
nothing there but young LalTes and Women, except in
the Stable, and they would every now and then run in
there too. When you go away, they embrace ye, and
pare with you with as much Affediion, as if you were
their own Brothers, or near Kinsfolks. Bert. This Mode
perhaps may become the French, but methinks the Way
of the Germans pleafes me better, which is more manly.
Will. I never have feen Germany ; therefore, pray don'c
think much to tell how they entertain a Traveller. Bert,
I can't tell whether the Method of entertaining be the
fame every where; but I'll tell you what I faw there.
No Body bids a Gueft welcome, left he fhould feem to
court his Guefts to come to him, for that they look upon to
be fordid and mean, and not becoming the Ger?nan Gravity.'
When you have called a good while at the Gate, at length
one puts his Head out of the Stove Window (for they
commonly live in Stoves till Midfummer ) like a Tortoile
from under his Shell : Him you muft ask if you can have
any Lodging there ; if he does not fay no, you may take it
for granted, that there is Room for you. When you ask
where the Stable is, he points to it ; there you may curry
your Horfe as you pleafe your (elf, for there is no Servant
will put a Hand to it. If it be a noted Inn, there is a Ser-
vant fhews you the Stable, and a Place for your Horfe, but
incommodious enough j for they keep the beft Places for
thofe that fhall come afterwards ; efpecially for Noblemen.
If you find Fault with any Thing, they tell you prefently,
jf you don'c like, look another Inn. In their Cities, they
allow
[ ^9^ ]
allow Hay, hut very unwillingly and fparingly, and that is
'ftlmoft as dear as Oats. When you have taken Care of your
Horfe, you come whole into the Stove, Boots, Baggage,
Dirt and all, for that is a common Room for all Comers.
Will. In France, xhty appoint you a feparate Chamber, where
you may change yourCloaths, clean and warm your felf, or
take Reft if you have a Mind to it. Bert. There's nothing of
that here. In the Stove, you pull off your Boots, put on
your Shoes, and if you will, change your Shirt, hang up your
wet Cloths near the Stove Iron, and get near it to dry your
felf. There's Water provided for you to wafh your Hands,
if you will i but as for the Cleahnefs of it, it is for the moft
Part fuch that you will want another Water to wafli that off.
Will. I commend this Sort of People, that have nothing of
Effeminacy in them. Bert. If you come in at four a-Clock
in the Afternoon, you muff not go to Supper till nine, and
fometimes not till ten. Will. Why fo ? Bert. They never
make any Thing ready till they fee all their Company toge-
ther, that one Trouble may ferve for all. Will. They are
for taking the fhorteft Way. Bert. You are right j fo that
oftentimes, there come all together into the fame Stove, eighty
or ninety Foot-men, Horfe-raen, Merchants, Marriners, Wag-
goners, Husbandmen, Children, Women, fick and found.
Will. This is having all Things in common. Bert. Thfere
one combs his Head, another wipes off his Sweat, another
cleans his Spatterdafhes or Boots, another belches Garlick j and
in fhort, there is as great a Confufion of Tongues and Perfons,
as there was at the Building the Tower of Bahel. And if they
fee any Body of another Country, who by his Habit looks
like a Man of Quality, they all flare at him fowiftfuUy, as if
he was a fort of ftrange Animal brought out of Africa. And
when they are fet at Table, and he behind them, they will be
'ft ill looking back at him, and be ftaring him in the Face, till
they have forgot their Suppers. Will. At 'Rome, Far is or Venice,
there's no Body thinks any Thing ftrange. Bert. In the mean
Time, 'tis a Crime for you to call- for any Thing. When it
is grown pretty late, and they don't exped: any more Guefts,
out comes an old grey-bearded Servant, with his Hair cue
fhort, and a crabbed Look, and a flovenly Drefs. Will. Such
"Fellows ought to be Cup-bearers to the Cardinals at B-ome.
Bert. He having caft his Eyes about, counts to himfelf, how
many there are in the Stove j the more he kes there, the more
Fire he makes in the Stove although it be at a Time when
the very Heat of the Sun would be troublefome j and this
with them, is accounted a principal Part of good Entertain-
ment, to make them all fweat till they drop again. If any
one
*.'
[ m ]
one who isiiot ufed to the Steam, fhall prefume, to open the
Window never fo little, that he be not ftifled, prefencly they
cry out to fhut it again : If you anfwer you are not able to
bear it, you'll prefently hear, get you another Inn then. Will.
But in my Opinion, nothing is more dangerous, than for fo
many to draw in the fame Vapour ; efpecially, when their
Bodies are opened with the Heat j and to eat in the fame
Place, and co ftay there fo many Hours, not to mention
the belching of Garlick, the Farting, the (linking Breaths,
for many have fecrec Diftempers, and every Difternper has
its Contagion ; and without doubt, many have the S^a^
nifi, or as it is called, the French Pox, although ic is com- •
mon to all Nations. And it is my Opinion, there is as
much Danger from fuch Perfonsy as there is from thofe
that have the Leprofy. Tell me now, v,'hat is this fliort of
a Peftilence ? Bert. They are Perfons of a flrong Conftitu-
tion, and laugh at, and difregard thofe Niceties. Will. But
in the mean time, they are bold at the Perils of other Men.
Bert. What would you do in this Cafe ? ^Tis tvhat they have
been ufed to, and it is a Part of a conftant Mind, not to de-
part from a Cuilom. Will. And yet, within thefe five and
twenty Years, nothing was more in vogue in Brabajst, than
hot Baths, but now they are every where grown out of Ufe;
but the new Scabbado has taught us to lay them down.
Bert. Well, but hear the reft: By and by, in comes our b^'^rd-
ed Ganymede again, and lays on the Table as many Nap-
kins, as there areGuefts: But, good God! not D-iraackones:
but fuch as you'd take to have been made out of old Sails.
There are at leaft eight Guefts allotted to every Table. Now
thofe that knov; the Way of the Country, take their Places,
every one as he pleafes, for there's no Difference between
Poor or Rich, between the Matter and Servant. Wll.This
was that ancient Equality which now the Tyrant Cujlom has
driven quite out of the World. I fupnofe Chrift liv'd after'
this Manner v/ith his Difciples. Bert. After they are all
plac'd,^ out comes the four-look'd Ganymede again, and
counts his Company over again j by and by he comes in again,
and brings every Man a Wooden Di(h, and a Spoon of the
fame Silver, and then a Gla{s j and then a litde after he
brings Bread, which the Guefts may chip every oneforthem-
felves at leifure, while the Porridge is boiling. For fometimes
they fit thus for near an Hour. Will. Do none of the Gucfts
call for Meat in the mean time ? Bert. None v^'ho' knows
the Way of the Country. At laft the Wine is (et upon the
Table: Good God ! how far from being taftlefs.? So thin
and fharp, that Sophifters ought to drink no other. And
O if
t ^94 3
if any of the Guefts fhould privately offer a Piece of Mo-
ney to get a little better Wine fome where elfe ; at firft
they'll fay nothing to you, but give you a Look, as if they
were going to niurder you^ and if you prefs it farther, they .
anfw^r you, there have been fo many Counts and Marquif-
les that have lodg'd here, and none of them ever found fault
with this Wine : If you don't like it, get you another Inn.
They account only the Noblemen of their own Nation to
be Men, and where-ever you come, they are fliewing you
their Arms. By this time, comes a Morfel to pacify a bark-
ing Stomach : And by and by follow the Difhes in great
Pomp ; commonly the firft has Sippits of Bread in Flefh
Broth, or if it be a Fifli Day, in a Soup of Pulfe. After
that comes in another Soup, and then a Service of Butcher's
Meat, that has been twice boil'd, or fait Meats warm'd again,
and then Pulfe again, and by and by fomething of more fo-
lid Food, until their Stomachs being pretty well (laid, they
bring roaft Meat or ftewed Fifh, which is not to be at all
contemn'd j but this they are fparing of, and take it away a-
gain quickly. This is the Manner they order the Entertain-
ment, as Comedians do, who intermingle Dances among their
Scenes, fo do they their Chops and Soups by Turns: But
they take care that the lafl A61 fhall be the beft. Will. This
is the Part of a good Poet. Bert. And it would be a hei-
nous Offence, if in the mean time any Body fhould fay.
Take away this Difh, there's no Body eats. You muft fie
your Time appointed, which I think they meafure by the
Hour-glafs. At lenjith, out comes that bearded Fellow^ or
the Landlord himfelf, in a Habit but litde diflPering from
his Servants, and asks how cheer you ? And by and by fome
better Wine is brought. And they like thofe beft that drink
moft, tho' he that drinks moft pays no more than he that
drinks leaft. If^tll. A ftrange Temper of the Nation ! Bert.
There are fome of them that drink twice as much Wine
as they pay for their Ordinary. But before I leave this En-
tertainment, it is wonderful, what a Noife and Chattering
there is, when once they come to be warm with Wine. In
fhort, it deafens a Man. They oftentimes bring in a Mix-
ture of Mimicks, which thefe People very much delight in
tho' they are a deteftable fort of Men, There's fuch a fing-
ing, prating, bawling, jumping, and knocking, that you would
think the Stove were falling upon your Head, and that one
Man can't hear another fpeak. And this they think is a plea-
fant Way of living, and there you muft fit in fpight of your
Heart till near Midnight. U'Vl. Make an end of your Meal
now, for I myfelf anj tir'd yyiih fuch d tedious one. Bert
,
l^elL
[ >5»i ]
iVell, I will. At length the Cheefe is taken away, which
fcarcely pleafes rhem, except it be rotten and kill of Mag-
gots. Then the old bearded Fellow comes again with a
Trencher, and a many Circles and Semi-circle;; drawn upon
it with Chalk, this he lays down upon th^ Table, with a
grim Countenance, and without fpeaking. You would fay
he was fome Charon. They that underftand the Meaning of
this lay down their Money one after another till the Tren-
cher is fiU'd. Having taken Notice of thofe who lay down>
he reckons it up himfelf, and if all is paid, he gives you a
Nod. Will. But what if there fhould be any Thina over
and above.? Bert. Perhaps hell give it you again, and they
oftentimes do fo. Will. Does no Body find Fault with th6
Reckoning? Bert. No Body that is wife. For they will fay,
what fort of a Fellow are you ? You pay no more than the
reft. Will. This is a frank fort of Men, you are fpeaking of.
Bert. If any one is weary with his Journey, and deiires to go
to Bed as foon as he has fupp'd, he is bid to ftay cill the reft go
too. Will. This feems to me to be Plato's City. Bert. Therj
every one is fhew'd to his Chamber, and truly 'tis nothing elfe
but a Chamber, there is only a Bed there, and nothing elfe
that you can either make ufe of or fteal. Will. Are Thin<rs
very clean there ? Bert. As clean as they were at the Ta-
ble. Sheets wafh'd perhaps iix Months ago. Will. Whac
becomes ot your Horfes all this while ? Bert. They are
treated after the Manner that the Men are. Will. But i«
there the fame Treatment every where. Bert. It is a little
more civil in fome Places, and worfe in others, than I have
told you J but in general it is thus. Will. What if I fliould
now tell you how they treat their Guefts in that Part of Ita-
ly call'd iLo?nbardy, and in Spain, and in England, and ia
Wales, for the Englifh have the Manners both of the French
and the Germans, being a Mixture of thofe two Nations.
The Weljh boaft themfelves to be the original Enghjh. Bert.
Pray relate it. I never had the Opportunity of travelling in
them. Will. I have not Leifure now, and the Mafter of the
Ship bid me be on board by three a Clock, unlefs I would
lofe my PaCfage. Another time we fhall have an Opportuni-
ty of prating our Bellie? full
0_i Thi
[ 19^ 3
The young Man and Harlot.
The Argument.
Tbis is certainly a divine Colloquy^ that makes
even a Baivdy-Houfe a chafle Place / God cavft be
deceived J his Eyes penetrate into the moft fecret Places^
'That young Perfons ought in an efpecial Manner to
take Care of their Chajlity. u^ young JVoman^ 'who
made her [elf common to get a Livelihood^ is re-
covered from that Courfe of Life, as wretched as
it is fcandalous. ' /
LUCRETIA, SOPHRONIUS.
LU. O brave i My pretty Sophronius, have I gotten you
again ? It is an Age methinks fince I faw you. I did
not know you at firft Sight. So. Why fo, my Lucretia.
Lu. Becaufe you had no Beard when you went away, but
you're come back Vv^ith fomething of a Beard. What's the
JVIatrer, my little Heart, you look duller than youufe to do?
So. I want to have a little Talk with you in private. Lu. Ah,
ah, are we not by our ielves already, my Cocky ? So.
Let U3 go out of the Way fome where, into a more private
Place. Lu. Come on then, v/e'll go into my inner Bed-
chamber, if you have a Mind to any Thing. S5. I don'c
think this Place is private enough yet. Lu. How comes it
about you're lb bafliful all on a fudden ? Well, come, I
have a Clofet where I lay up my Cloaths, a Place fo dark,
that we can fcarce fee one another there. Si?. See it there be
no Chink. Lu. There is not fo much as a Chink. So. Is-
tbere no Body near to hear us. Lu. Not fo much as a Fly*
my Dear ; Why do you lofe Time ? So. Can we efcape
the Eye of God here ? Lu. No, he fees all Things clearly.
So. And of the Angels } Lu. No, we cannot efcape their
Sigh:. So. How comes it about then, that Men are nor
aiham'd to do that in the Sight of God, and before the
Face of the l-.oly Angels, that they would be adiamed to
do before Men ? Lti. What fort of an Alteration is this ?
Did you come hither to prea.ch a Sermon ? Prithee put on a
I '97 1
Wra7idfca7iS Hood, and get up into a Pulpit, and then we*II
hear you hold forth, my little bearded Rogue. So. I fnould
not think much to do that, if I could but reclaim you from
this kind of Life, that is the moft fhameful and mifcrable'
Life in the World. Lu. Why fo, good Man ? I am born,
and I muft be kept j every one rnuft live by his Calling.
This i? my Bufinefs ; this is all I have to live on. So.
I wJh with all my Heart, my L.ncretia, that ietring alide for
a while that Infatuation of Mind, you would fsrioufly
weigh the Matter. Lu. Keep your Preachment till another
Time J novv let us enjoy one another, my Sophrovius. So.
You do v;'hat you do for the fake of Gain. Lu. You are
much about the Matter. So. Thou fhalt lofe nothing by
it, do but hearken to me, and I'll pay you four times over,
Lu. Well, fay what you have a Mind to fay. So. An-
fwer me this QLieftion in the firft Place : Are there any
Perfons that owe you any Ill-will } Lu. Not one. So.
Is there any Body that you have a Spleen againffc ? Lu. Ac-
cording as they deferve. So. And if you could do anyThino;
that would gratify them, would you do it ? ' Lu. I would
poifon 'em fooner. So, But then do but confidcr with your
felf i is there any Thing that you can do that gratifies them
more than to let them to fee you live this iliameful and wrecch-
ed Life .? And what is there thou canf!; do that would -be
more aSi^ting to them that wifh thee v/ell } Lu. Ic is my
Deftiny. So. Now that which ufcj to be the greatefi: Kard-
iliip to luch as are tranfported, or baniirx'd into the mofl
remote Parts of the World, this you undergo voluntarily.
Lu. What is that? So. Kail thou not of thy own Accord
renounc'd all thy AfFeciions to Father, Mocner, Brother,
Sifters, Aunts, (by Father's and Mother's Side) and all thy
Relations ? For thou makeft them all afham'd to own thee,
and thy felf afliam'd to coa-.e into their Sight. Lu. Nay, I
have made a very happy Exchange of Affcdions j for in-
ftead of a few, now I have a great many, of which you are
one, and whom I have always efteem'd as a Brother. So.
Leave oiF jefting, and confider the Matter fenouily, as ic
Teally is. Believe me, my Lucretia, {\\q. who has fo many
Friends, has never a one, i'or they that fo low thee do it not
as a Friend, but as a Houfe of Office rather. Do but conJider,
poor Thing, into what a Condition thoa haft brought thy felf.
Chrift lov'd thee fo dearly as to redeem thee with his own Blood,
and would have thee be a Partaker with him in an heavenly
Inheritance, and tliou raakeft thy felf a common Sewer, into
which all the bafe, nafty, pocky Fellows reforr, and empty
their Fikhinefs. And if that leprous lafedion they call the
O 5 French
C 'P8 1
French Pox han't yet feiz'd thee, thou wilt not efcape it longJ
And if once thou getteft it, how mi(erab!e wUt thou be,
though all things fhould go favourably on thy Side ? I mean
thy Subftance and Repucacion, Thou wouldeft be nothing
but a living Carcafe. Thou thoughteft much to obey thy
Mothefi and now thou art a mere Slave to a filthy Bawd.
You could not endure to hear your Parents Inftrudtions i
and here you are often beaten by drunken Fellows and mad
Whoremafters. It was irkfome to thee to do any Work at
Home, to get a Living ^ but here, hovy many Quarrels art:
thou forc'd to endure, and how late aNigiits art thouoblig'd
to (it up ? L,H. How came you to be a Preacher. So.
And do but ferioufly confider, this Flower of thy Beauty
that now brings thee fo many Gallants, will foon fade :
And then, poor Creature, what wilt thou do ? Thou wile
be pifs'd upon by every Body. It may be, thou thinkefi, in-
ftead of a Miftrefs, Fil then be a Bawd. All Whores can'c
attain to that, and if thou fliould'ft, what Employment is
more impious, and more like the Devil himfelf ? Lu. Why,
indeed, my Sopbro7im, almofl all you fay is very true. Buc
how came you to be fo religious all of a fudden .^ Thou
ufedft to be the greateft Rake in tlie World, one of 'em.
No Body ufed to come hither more frequently, nor at more
unfeafonable Hours than you did. I hear you have been at
Rome. So. I have fo. Lu. Well, but other People ufe to
come from thence, worfe than they went : How comes ic
about, it is otherwife with you ? So. FJl tell you, becaufb
I did not go to Rome with the fame Intent, and after the
fame Manner that others do. Odiers commonly go to Rome,
on purpofe to come Home worie, and there they meet with
a great many Opportunities of becoming fo. I went along
with an honeft Man, by whofe Advice, I took along with
me a Book inftead of a Bottle ; The New Teftament, with
Erapnuis Paraphrafe. Lu. Erafmus^s ? They fay that he's
half a Heretick. So. Has his Name reached to this Place
too ? Lu. There's no Name more noted among us. So.
Did you ever fee him ? Lw. No, I never favv' him ; but I
fliould be glad to fee him j I have heard fo many bad Re-
ports of him. So. It may be you have heard 'em, from them
that arc bad thcmfelves. Lu. Nay, from Men of the Gown.
So. Who are they? Lu. It is not convenient to name Names.
So. Why To } Lu. Becaufe if you fhould blab it out, and it
fhould come to their Ears, * Ihould lofe a great many good
Cullies. So. Don't be afraid, I won't fpeak a Word of it.
Lu. Whifpcr then. 5"^. You foolifhGirl, what need is there
to whifper, when there is no Body but our felves } What,
4 . i'^ft
[ ^99 ]
left God fhould hear ? Ah, good God ! I perceive you're a
religious Whore, that relieveft Mendicants. Ltt. I get more
by them Beggars, than by you rich Men. So. They rob
honeft Women, to lavifli it away upon naughty Strumpets.
Lu. But go on, as to your Book. So. So I will, and that's
beft. In that Book, Paulj that can't lie, told me, that nei-
ther Whores nor Whore-mongers Jball obtain the Kingdom of
Heaven. When I read this, I began thus to think with my
felf : It is but a fmall Matter that I look for from my Fa-
ther's Inheritance, and yet I can renounce all the Whores in
the World, rather than be difinherited by my Father j how
much more then ought I to take Care, left my heavenly Fa-
ther fliould (Mnherit me ? And human Laws do afford
fome Relief ra the Cafe of a Father's difinhericing or dif-
carding a Son : But here is no Provifion at all made, in
cafe of God's difinheriting ; and upon that, I immediately
ty'd my felf up from all Converfation with lewd Women,
iiU. It will be well if you can hold it. So. It is a good Step
towards Continence, to defire to be fo. And laft of all,
there is one Remedy left, and that is a Wife. When I was
at Rome, I empty'd the whole Jakes of my Sins into the Bo-
fom of a ConfefTor. And he exhorted me very earncftly to
Purity, both of Mind and Body, and to the reading of the
holy Scripture, to frequent Prayer, and Sobriety of Life,
and enjoin'd me no other Penance, but that I fhould upon
my bended Knees before the high Altar iay this Pfr/'m,
Have Mercy upon me, O God: And that if I had any Money, I
fhould give one Penny to fome poor Body. And I won-
dring that for fo many whoring Tricks he enjoin'd me fo
fmall a Penance, he anfwer'd me very pleafancly. My Son,
fays he, // you truly repent and change your Life, I don^t lay
viuch Strefs upon the Venance ; but if thou floalt go on in
it, the very "Lufi it felf luill at lafi punifh thee very fever ely,
although the Priefi impofe none upon thee. Look upon me, I
am blear- ey'd, troubled with the Palfy, and go ftooping: Time
was I was fuch a one as you fay you have been heretofore.
And thus I repented. Lu. Then as far as I perceive, I have^
loft my Sophronius. So. Nay, you have rather gain'd him,
for he was loft before, and was neither his own Friend nor
thine neither : Now he loves thee ic reality, and longs for
the Salvation of thy Soul. Lu. What would you have me
to do then, my Sophronius ? So. To leave off that Courfe
of Life out of Hand : Thou art but a Girl yet, and that
Stain that you have contraded may be wip'd off in Time.'
Either marry, and Fll give you fomething toward a Porriorv,
O 4 or
[ 200 ]
or go into feme Cloyfter, that takes in crakt Maidsj or go
into fome ftrange Place and get into fome honeft Family,
I'll lend you my Affiftance to any of thefe. L,u. My So-
^hronius, I love thee dearly, look out for one for me, I'll
foUov/ thy Advice. So. But in the mean Time get away
from hence. L». Whoo ! what fo fuddenly ! So. Why not
to Day rarher than to Morrow, if Delays are dangerous?
Tju. Whither {hall I go ? So. Get all your Things to-
gether, give 'em to me in the Evening, my Servant fliall
carry 'em privately to a faithful Matron ; And Til come a '
little after and take you out as if it were to take a little Walk i
you (hall live with her fome Time upon my Coft till I
can provide for you, and that fliall be s9j quickly. La.
,Well, my Sophronius, I commit myfelf wholly to thy Ma-
nagement. So. In time to come you'll be glad you have
' done fo.
The"
[ ^01 ]
The Poetical Feaft, .
The Argument.
The Poetical Feaji teaches the Studious how to banquets
I'hat Ihriftinefs with Jocofemfs^ Chearfulnefs with"
out Obfcenity^ and learned Stories^ ought to feafori
their Teafts. Iambics are bloody. Poets are Men of
no great Judgjjient. The three chief Properties of a
good Maid Servant. Fidelity^ Deformity^ and a
high Spirit. A Place out of the Prologue of
TerenceV Eunuchus is ilhif rated. Alfo Horace^
JE.pode to Canidia. A Place out of Seneca. Aliud
agere, nihil agere, male agere. A Place out ef
the Elenchi of Ariftotle is explained. A THoerm
poetically varied^ and in a different Metre. Sentences
are taken from Flowers and 'Trees in the Garden^.
Alfo [ome Verfes are compos' d in Greek.
HILARY, LEONARD, CRATO, GUESTS,
MARGARET, CARINUS, EUBULUS,
SBRULIUS, PARTHENIUS, MUS»
Hilary^ Servant.
T T r. "Levis apparatus, animus efl lautijfmus.
^ ■*• Le. Ccenam Sinijiro es aufpisatiis omine.
Hi. Imo ahfit omen trijie. Sed cur hoc putas ?
Le. Cruenti Iambi haud covgrmint co7iviviQ.
Hi. I have but fender Tare, but a very liberal Mind. Le.
Tou have begun the Banquet •with a bad Omen, Hi. Away
*with bad Prefages. But why do you think fo ? Le. Bloody
Iambics are not fit for a Feafi.
Cr. O brave ! I am fure the Mufes are amongft us» Verfes
flow fo from us, when we don't think of 'em.
Si
[ 201 ]
Si rotatilet trochaos rnavelis, en, accipe ^
Vilis apparatus hie e/?, animus efi lauti^mus.
If you had rather have whirling Trochees, lo, here they
are for you : Here is but mean Provifion, but I have a
liberal Mind.
Although Iambics in old Time were made for Conten-
tions and Quarrels, they were afterwards made to ferve any
Subjed whatfoever. O Melons ! Here you have Melons
that grew in my own Garden. Thefe are creeping Let-
tuces of a very milky Juice, like their Name. What Man
in his Wits would not prefer thefe Delicacies before Brawn,
Lampreys, and Moor-hens ? Ca. If a Man may be allow'd
to fpeak Truth at a Poetic Banquet, thofe you call Lettuces
are Beets. Hi. God forbid. Cr. It is as I tell you. See
the Shape of 'em, and befides where is the milky Juice ?
Where are their foft Prickles ? Hi. Truly you make me
doubt, Soho, call the Wench. Margaret, you Hag, what
did you mean to give us Beets inflead of Lettuces ? Ma.
I did it on Purpofe. Hi. What do you fay, you Witch ?
Ma. I had a Mind to try among fo many Poets if any could
know a Lettuce from a Beet. For I know you don't tell
me truly who 'twas that difcover'd 'em to be Beets. Co.
Crato. Ma. I thought it was no Poet who did it. Hi. If ^
ever you ferve me fo again, I'll call you Blitea inftead of ^
Margarita. Co. Ha, ha ha. Ma. Your calling me will nei-
ther make me fatter nor leaner. He calls me by twenty
Names in a Day's Time : When he has a Mind to wheedle
me, then I'm call'd Galatea, Euterpe, Calliope, Callirhoe,
Melijfa, Venus, Minerva, and what not ? When he's out of
Humour at any Thing, then prefently I'm Tifiphone, Megara,
Ale£lo, Medufa, Baucis, and whatfoever comes into his
Head in his mad Mood. Hi. Get you gone with your
Beets, Blitea. Ma. I wonder what you call'd me for. Hi.
That you may go whence you came. Ma. 'Tis an old Say-
ing and a true, 'tis an eafier Matter to raife the Devil, than
'tis to lay him. Co. Ha, ha, ha : Very well faid. As the
Matter is, Hilary, you ftand in need of fome magic Verfe
to lay her with. Hi. I have got one ready.
^i)*yi7i f^v^^aJ^s hvK©- A fa©- viifn J)aKH.
Be gone ye Beetles, for the cruel Wolf purfues you.'
[ ^^3 ]
Ma. What fiys Mfo^ ? Cr. Have a Care, Hi/^^, flie'Il hie
you a Slap on the Face : This is your laying her with your
Greek Verfe. A notable Conjurer indeed ! Hi. CratOj What
do you think of this Jade ? I could have laid ten great De-
vils with fuch a Verfe as this. Ma. I don't care a Straw for
your Greek Verfes. Hi. Well then, I muft make ufe of a
magical Spell, or, if that won't do, Mercurfs Mace. Cr,
My Margarety you know we Poets are a fort of Enthu-
fiafts, I won't fay Mad-Men ; prithee let me intreat you to
let alone this Contention 'till another Time, and treat us
with good Humour at this Supper for my Sake. Ma. What
does he trouble me with his Verfes for. Often when I am to
go to Market he has never a Penny of Money to give me,
and yet he's a humming of Verfes. Cr. Poets are fuch fort
of Men. But however, prithee do as I fay. Ma. Indeed
I will do it for your Sake, becaufe I know you are an honeft
Gentleman, that never beat your Brain about fuch Fooleries.
I wonder how you came to fall into fuch Company. Cr. How
come you to think fo ? Ma. Becaufe you have a full Nofe,
fparkling Eyes, and a plump Body. Now do but fee how he
leers and fneers at m.e. Cr. But prithee. Sweet-heart, keep
your Temper for my Sake. Ma. Well, I will go, and 'tis
for your Sake and no Body's elfe. Hu Is ftie gone ? Ma.
Not fo far but fhe can hear you. Mm. She is in the Kitchen,
nov/, muttering fomething to herfelf I can't tell what. Cr.
I'll affiire you your Maid is not dumb. Hi. They fay a
good Maid Servant ought efpecially to have three Qualifica-
tions ; to be honeft, ugly, and high-fpirited, which the Vul-
gar call evil. An honeft Servant won't wafte, an ugly one
Sweet-hearts won't woo, and one that is high-fpirited will de-
fend her Mafter's Right j for fometimes there is Occafion for
Hands as well as a Tongue. This Maid of mine has two
of thefe Qualifications, fhe's as ugly as flie's furly; as to her
Honefty I can't tell what to fay to that. Cr, We have heard
her Tongue, we were afraid of her Hands upon your Ac-
count. Hi. Take fome of thefe Pompions : We have done
with the Lettuces. For I know if I fhould bid her bring
any Lettuces, fhe would bring Thiftles. Here are Melons
too, if any Body likes them better. Here are new Figs
too juft gather'd, as you may fee by the Milk in the Stalks.
It is cuftomary to drink Water after Figs, left they clog the
Stomach. Here is very cool clear Spring Water that runs
cut of this Fountain, that is good to mix with Wine. Cr.
But I can't tell whether I had beft to mix Water with my
Wine, or Wine with Water ; this Wine feems to me fo
likely to have been drawn out of the Mufes Fountain. Hi.
Such
[ ^04 1
Such Wine as this is good for Poets to fliarpefi their
Wits. You dull Fellows love heivy Liquors. Cr. I wifh
I was that happy Crajfus. Iti. I had rather be Coiirut or
Envius. And feeing I happen to have the Company of fo
many learned Guefts at my Table, I won't let 'em go
away without learning fomething of 'em. There is a Place
in the Prologue of Eunuchus that puzzles many. For moft
Copies' have it thus :
Sic exifiimet, fciat,
Kefponfum, non di&um ejje, quia Ujit prior,
^i bene vertendo, d" eai defcribendo male, &C.
Let him fo efteem or know, that it is an Anfwer, not a
common Saying ^ becaufe he firft did the Injury, who by
well tranflating and ill defcribing them, &c.
In thefe Words I want a witty Senfc, and fuch as is v/orthy
of Terence. For he did not therefore do the Wrong firft,
becaufe he tranflated the Greek Comedies badly, but becaufe
he had found Fault with Terence's. Eu. According to the
old Proverb, He that fings worfi let him begin firfi. When
1 was at London in Thomas Uaacre's Houfe, who is a Man
tho' well skill'd in all Manner of Philofophy, yet he is very
ready in all Criticifms in Grammar, he fhew'd me a Book
of great Antiquity which had it thus ;
Sic exifiimat, fciat,
Mejponfum non diStum ejfe, quale fit priiiS
^i bene 'vertetido, <ir eas dejcribendo male.
Ex Gracis bonis luatinas fecit non bonas :
Idem Menandri phafma nunc nuper dedit.
The Sentence is fo to be ordered, that qu&lefit may fliew that
an Example of that which is fpoken before is to be fubjoin'd.
He threatened that he would again find Fault with fomething
in his Comedies who had found Fault with him, and he here
denies that it ©ught to feem a Reproach but an Anlwcr, He
that provokes begins the Quarrel ^ he that being provok'd,
replies, only makes his Defence or Anfwer. He promifes
lo give an Example thereof, quale ft, being the fame with
mav in Greek, and quod genus, veluti, or videlicet, or puta
in Latin. Then afterwards he brings a Reproof, wherein
the Adverb priiis hath Relation to another Adverb, as ic
were a contrary one, which follows, viz. nuper, even as
the Pronoun qui anfwers to the Word ideifi. For he al-
3 - ^ - - - together
[205]
together explodes the old Comedies of havimus> fcecaufit
they were now loft out of the Memory of Men. la
thofe which he had lately publifhed, he fees down the cer-
tain Places. I think that this is the proper Reading, and the
true Senfe of the Comedian : If the chief and ordinary Poets
diflent not from it. G«. We are all entirely of your Opinion.
Eu. But I again deGre to be inform'd by you of one fmall
and very eafy Thing, how this Verfe is to be fcann'd.
Ex Gr^cis bonis Latinai fecit non hona^.
Scan it upon your Fingers. Hi. I think that according to
the Cuftoin of the Antients S is to be cut off, fo that there
be an Awapieftus in the feccnd Place. Eu. I fhould agree to
it, but that the ablative Cafe ends in is, and is long by Na-
ture. Therefore though the Confonant fhould be taken a-
way, yet neverthelefs a long Vowel remains. Hi. You fay
right. Cr. If any unlearned Perfon or Stranger fliould come
in, he would certainly think we were bringing up again
among our felves the Countrymens Play of holding up cur
Fingers (dimicatione digit or urn, i. e. the Play of Love.j L,e,
As far as I fee, we fcan it upon our Fingers to no Pur-
pofc. Do you help us out if you can. Eu. To fee how
fmail a Matter fometimes puzzles Men, though they be good
Scholars. The Propolition ex belongs to the End of the
foregoing Verfe.
^i bene 'uertendo, ^ eas defcribenda male, ex
Gracis bonis Juatinas fecit non bonas.
Thus there is no Scruple. Le. It is fo, by the Mufes. Since
we have begun to fcan upon our Fingers, I defire that
fomebody would put this Verfe out of Andria into its Feef.»
StJie invidia laudem invenias, <^ amicos pares.
For I have often try'd and could do no good on't. Le.
Sine is an Iambic, njidia an Anapasftus, Laudem is a Spondee,
venias an Anap22ftus, and ami another Anapseftus. Ca. Yoa
have five Feet already, and there are three Syllables yet
behind, the firft of which is long ^ fo that thou canffc
neither make it an Iambic nor a Tribrach. Le. Indeed you
fay true. We are aground j who fliall help us off! Eu. No.
Body can do it better than he that brought us info it.. Well,
Carinus, if thou canft fay any Thing to the Matter, don'c
conceal it from your poor fincere Friends; Ca. If my
Me-
[ 20(^ ]
Memory does not fail me, I think I have read fomething
of this Nature in Prifcian. Who fays, that among the La-
tin Comedians v confonant is cut off as well as the Vowel,
as oftentimes in this Word enimvero ; fo that the Part enime
makes an Anapseftus. Le. Then fcan it for us. Ca. I'll do
it. Sine invidi is a profeleufmatic Foot, unlefs you had ra-
ther have it cut off by Synerefis, as when Virgil puts mreo
at the End of an heroick Verfe for auro. But if you pleafe
let there be a Tribrach in the firft Place, a lau is a Spon-
dee, d' inveni a Da6tyl, as et a a. Dadtyl, micos a Spondee,
fares an Iambic. Sh. Carinus hath indeed got us out of thefe
Briars. But in the fame Scene there is a Place, which I
can't tell whether any Body has taken Notice of or not.
Hi. Prithee, let us have it. Sh. There Simo jfpeaks after
this Manner.
Sine ut eveniat quod volo ;
I» Famfhilo ut jiihil fit mora ; reflat Chremes.
Suppofe it happen, as I defire, that there be no Delay in
Famphilus; Chremes remains.
What is it that troubles you in thefe Words ? Sh. Sine be-
ing a Term of Threatning, there is nothing follows in this
Place that makes for a Threatning. Therefore it is my
Opinion that the Poet wrote it.
Sin eveniat quod volo.
that Sin may anfwer to the Si that went before.
Si propter amorem uxorem nolit ducere.
For the old Man propounds two Parts differing from one
another. 5/, &c. If Pamphilus for the Love of Glyceric
refufeth to marry, I fhall have fome Caufe to chide him ;
but if he l"hall not refufe, then it remains that I muft intreac
Chremes. Moreover the Interruption of Sojla, and Simo's An-
ger againfi: Davus made too long a Tranfpofition of the
Words. Hi. Moufe, reach me that Book. Cr. Do you.
commit your Book to a Moufe > Hi. More fafely than my
Wine. Let me never ftir, if Shrulius has not fpoken the
Truth. Ca. Give me the Book, I'll fhew you another doubt*
ful Place. This Verfe is not found in the Prologue ot
Ennuchus,
Hals%
1 207 ]
Ha ho alia mult a, qua nunc condonabuntur.
J have many other Things, which fliall now be delivered.
Although the "Latin Comedians efpecially take great Liberty
to themfelves in this kind of Verfe, yet I don't remember
that they any where conclude a Trimetre with a Spondee,
unleft it be read Condonabitur imperfonally, or Condonabimus,
changing the Number of the Perfon. Ma. Oh, this is like
Poets Manners indeed ! As foon as ever they are fet down
to Dinner they are at play, holding up their Fingers, and
poring upon their Books. It were better to referve your
Plays and your Scholarfhip for the fecond Courfe. Cr. Mar-
garet gives us no bad Counfel, we'll humour her ; when
we have fiU'd our Bellies, we'll go to our Play again ;
now we'll play with our Fingers in the Di(h. Hi. Take
Notice of Poetick Luxury. You have three Sorts of Eggs,
boil'd, roafted, and fry'd j they are all very new laid within
ihefe two Days. Ca. I can't abide to eat Butter j if they are
fry'd with Oil, I fhall like 'em very well. Hi. Boy, go ask
Margaret what they are fry'd in. Mo. She fays they are
fry'd in neither. Hi. What ! neither in Butter nor Oif, In
what then } Mo. She fays they are fry'd in Lye. Cr. She
has given you an Anfwer like your Queftion. What a great
Difficulty 'tis to diftinguifh Butter from Oil. Ca. Efpecially
for thofe that can fo eafily know a Lettuce from a Beet.
Hi. Well, you have had the Ovation, the Triumph will
follow in Time. Soho, Boy, look about you, do you per-
ceive nothing to be wanting ? Mo. Yes, a great many
Things. Hi. Thefe Eggs lack Sauce to allay their Heat. Mo.
What Sauce would you have } Hi. Bid her fend us fome
Juice of the Tendrels of a Vine pounded. Mo. I'll tell her.
Sir, Hi. What, do you come back empty-handed. Ma.
She fays. Juice is not ufed to be fqueez'd out of Vine Ten-
drels. Le. A fine Maid Servant, indeed ! Sb. Well, we'll
feafon our Eggs with pleafant Stories. I found a Place in the
£podes of Horace, not corrupted as to the Writing, but
wrong interpreted, and not only by Mancinellus, and other
later Writers j but by Forphyry himfelf The Place is in the
Poem, where he fings a Recantation to the Witch Canidia.
Tuufque venter partum ejus, <^ tuo
Cruore rubros obfietrix paanos lavita
ypunque fortis^ exilis pnerpera.
fot
[ 208 ]
For they all fake exiUs to be a Noun in this Place, when it
is a Verb. FU v/rite down Torphyrys Words, if v/e can be-
lieve 'em to be his : She is cxilis, fays he, under that Form,
as though fhe were become deform'd by Travel, by Slender-
nefs of Body, he means a natural Leannefs. A fliameful
Miftake, if fo great a -Man did not perceive that the Law ot
the Metre did contradict this Senfe. Nor does the fourth
Place adoiit of a Spondee: But the Poet makes a Jeft of it;
that fhe did indeed bear a Child, though flie was not long
weak, nor kept her Bed long after her Delivery ; but prefent-
ly jumpt out of Bed, as fome lufty lying-in Women ufed
to do. Hi. We thank you SbruUus, for giving us fuch fine
Sauce to our Eggs. t-e. There is another Thing in the firft
Book of Odes that is not much unlike this. The Ode begins
thus : Tu ne quajieris. Now the common Reading is thus ,
'Ncu Babylonios teittaris numeros, ut melius quicquid erit pati.
The antient Interpreters pafs this Place over, as if there were
no Difficulty in it. Only Manci?iellus thinking the Sentence
imperfedt, bids us add ^ojjis. Sb. Have you any Thing more
that is certain about this Matter ? Le. I don't knov/ whe-
ther I have or no ; but in my Opinion, Horace feems here
to have made ufe of the Greek Idiom ; and this he does more
than any other of the Poets. For it is a very common
Thing with the Greeks, to join an infinitive Mood, with the
Word «f and u<^. And Co Horace uCesut pati, for ut patiaris:
Although what Mancimllus guefles, is not altogether ahfurd.
Hi. I like what you fay very well. Run, Mouje, and bring
what is to come, if there be any thing, Cr. What new
dainty Difh is this ? Hi. This is a Cucumber fliced j this is the
Broth of the Pulp of a Gourd boil'd, it is good to make
the Belly loofe. Sb. We \v\\\ change thy Name, and call
thee Apicius, inftead of Hilary. Hi. Well, laugh now as
much as you will, it may be you'll highly commend this
Supper to Morrow. Sb. Why fo .? Hi. When you find that )
your Dinner has been well feafon'd. 5^. What, with a good I
Stomach ? Hi. Yes, indeed, Cr. Hilary, do you know
what Task I would have you take upon you ? Hi. 1 fhall
know when you have told me, Cr. The Choir fmgs fome
Hymns, that are indeed learned Ones ; but are corrupted it» i
many Places by unlearned Perfons. I defirc that you would '
mend 'em ; and to give you an Example, we fing thus :
Hofis, Herodes, impie,
Chrifiwn 'venire ^uid times ?
Thmi
[ 46, ]
*Itiou 'wlcked "Enemy Herod, 'why dofi thou dread tfoe
Coming of Chrift ?
The mif-placing of one Word fpoils the Verfe two Ways.'
JFor the Word hofih, making a Trochee, has no Place in an
lambick Verfe, and Hero being a Spondee won't ftand in the
fecond Place. Nor is there any doubt but the Verfe at firft
was thus written,
Herodes hofii imple.
For the Epithete impie better agrees with Hops than with
Herod. Beiides Herodes being a Greek Word « is turned in-
to 6 in the vocative j - as S^y^a^w^ eT ^djifATii -, and fo
'Aya^^/.vav in the nominative Cafe is turned into o. So
again we iing the Hymn,
yeft corona virginum»
^em mater ilia concepit,
^a fola virgo parturit.
O yefui the Crown of Virgins,
JVloom f]e the Mother conceived,
Wloich 'Was the only Ferfon of a Virgin that brought forth.
There is no Doubt but the Word fiiould be pronounc'd con-^
tipit. For the Change of the Senfe fets off a Word. And
it is ridiculous for us to find Fault with concipit when parturit
follows. ' Hi. Truly I have been puzzled at a great many
fuch Things ; nor will it be amils, if hereafter we bellow
a little Time upon this Matter. For methinks Ambrofe has
not a little Grace in this kind of Verfe, for he does com-
monly end a Verfe of four Feet with a Word of three Syl-
lables, and commonly places a cafuta in the end of a V/ord.
It is fo common with him that it cannot fecm to have been
by Chance. If you would have an Example, Deus Creator,
Here is a Penthejmmeris, it follows, omnium ; Polique reBon
then foUov/s, 'vejiiens j diem decora, and then lumine ; noBem
foporis, then follows gratia. Hi. But here's a good fat Hen
that has laid me Eggs, and hatch'd me Chickens for ten Years
together. Cr. It is pity that fhe fhould have been kill'd,
Ca. If it were fit to intermingle any Thing of graver Studies.,'
I have fomething to propofe. Hi. Yes, if it be not too crab-
bed. Ca. That it is not. I lately began to read Sejseca's
Epiftles, and ftumbled, as they fay, at the very Thrediold.
P Tb«i
t
2IO
The Place is in the firft Epiftle ^ And if, fays he, thou wilt
but obferve it, great Part of our Life pafles away while we
are doing what is ill i the greateft Part, while we are doing
nothing, and the whole of it while we are doing that which
is to no Purpofe. In this Sentence he feems to afFed I can't
tell what Sort of Witticifm, which I do not well under-
ftand. Le. I'll guefs if you will. Ca. Do fo. Le. No
Man offends continually. But, neverthelefs, a great Part of
one's Life is loft in Excefs, Luft, Ambition, and other Vices j
but a much greater Part is loft in doing of nothing. More-
over they are faid to do nothing, not who live in Idlenefs,
but they who are bufied about frivolous Things which con-
duce nothing at all to our Happinefs : And thence comes the
Proverb, It is better to be idle, than to be doing, but to no
Furpofe. But the whole Life is fpent in doing another Thing.
He is faid, aliud agere, who does not mind what he is about.
So that the whole of Life is loft : Becaufc when we are
vitioully employ'd we are doing that we Ihould not do ;
when we are employ'd about frivolous Matters we do that we
ihould not do ; and when we ftudy Philofophy (in that we
do it negligently and carelefly) we do fomething to no Pur-
pofe. If this Interpretation don't pleafe you, let this Sen-
tence of Seneca be fet down among t-hofe Things of this Au-
thor that Aulus Gellius condemns in this Writer as frivolouf-
ly witty. Hi. Indeed I like it very well. But in the mean
Time, let us fall manfully upon the Hen. I would not have
you miftaken, I have no more Provifion for you, and it
a'^^rees with what went before. That is the bafeft Lofs that
comes by Negligence, and he (hews it by this Sentence con-
fifting of three Parts. But methinks I fee a Fault a little af-
ter : We fore fee not Death, a great Part of it is paft already.
It is my Opinion it ought to be read ^ We forefee Death.
For wc forefee thofe Things which are a great Way off
from u?, when Death for the moft Part is gone by us.
ILe. If Philofophers do fometimes give themfelves Leave to
go afide into the Meadows of the Mufes, perhaps it will
not be amifs for us, if we, to gratify our Fancy, take a
Turn into their Territories. Hi. Why not ? Le. As I
was lately reading over again Ariftotle's Book that he en-
tiilcs n«ej r '£A«f;^:/, the Argument of which is for the
moft Part common both to Rhetoricians and Philofophers,
I happen'd to fall upon fome egregious Miftakes of the
Interpreters. And there is no Doubt but that they that are
unskiU'd in the Greek have often mifs'd it in many Places. For
Arifiotle propofes a fort of fuch kind of Ambiguity as arifes
from a Word of a contrary Signification. "OvptuvSrAVKcnv ol
3^
1 211 ]
h-AixCdvetv T ^'d(AMv. And they turn it thus. Becaufe intdli-
gencPerfons learn ; for Grammarians are only tongue-learn'd ^
for to learn is an equivocal Word, proper both to him thac
exercifeth and to him that receiveth Knowledge. Hi, Me-
thinks you fpeak Hebrew, and not EngUpj. Le. Have any
of you heard any equivocal Word. Hi. No. Le. What then
can be more fooliih than to defire to turn that which cannot
poffibly be turn'd. For although the Greek Word (Mv^vm^
%nifies as much as (^.^m and (M.Sii7<^'Hy, Co among the Latins,
difcere, to learn, fignifies as much as do^rinam accipere, or do-
iirinam tradere. But whether this be true or no I can't tell.
I rather think mtv^veiv, is of doubtful Signification with the
Greeks, as cognofcere is among the Latins. For he that in-
forms, and the Judge that learns, both of them know the '
Caufe. And fo I think among the Greeks the Mafter is faid
liaM^vHV whilft he hears his Scholars, as alfo the Scholarswho
learn of him. But how gracefully hath he turn'd that 7a' -^
a/TrvTOf^v^^of^S/Ja, (/.ew^vam 01 T^.^{MT7Mh 7iam fecmtdum os
Grammatici difcunt,: For the Grammarians are tongue-learn'd j
fince it ought to be tranflated, Ham Grammatici, qua di£ii-
tant, docent : Grammarians teach v/hat they didate. Here
the Interpreters ought to have given another ExprelTion,
which might not exprefs the fame Words, but the fame
kind ot Thing. Tho' I am apt to fufped here is fome
Error in the Greek Copy, and that it ought to be written
IfMvy^v TtS-n ^uniiveu }^ -rri KAyiCdveiv. And a little after
he fubjoms another Example of Ambiguity, which arife not
from the Diverfity of the Signification of the fame Word, but
from a different Connexion. To 0iM^ haC^v fig 7«\} mhi(MHi»
'Ville me accipere pugnantes. To be willing [hat I ihould receive
the fighting Men : For fo he tranflates it, inftead of velle me ca~
fere hops, to be willing that I take the Enemies; and if ond
fhould read Bihz^,, it is more perfpicuous. Vultis ut ego m-
fiam hofies ? Will ye that I take the Enemies } For the Pro-
noun may both go before and follow the Verb capere. IF it go
before it, the Senfe will be this. Will ye, thac I take the Ene-
mies } If it follows, then this will be the Senfe, Are ye wil-
ling that the Enemies fliould rake me ? He adds alfo another
Example of the fame kind, ^A£^ 0 Tff^ivuffKei, tSto ^v^a-Kei.
i. e. ^n quod quis novit hoc novit. The Ambiguity lies in
'ft-n. If it fhould be taken in the accufacive Cafe, the Senfe'
will be this ; whatfoever it is chat any body knows, th^c
Thing he krvDWs to be. But if in the nominative Cafe, the
Senfe will be this. That Thing which any Body knows, it
knows i as though that could not be known that knows not
P 2 ggaia
C 211 ]
again by Courfe. Again he adds another Example, "^ K^ o 77?
Sf^", Trf-re opa ; o?tf q '?• wof«, «9e tp^ 5 yj^r Thac which any
one fees, does that Thing lee j but he fees a Poft, does the '
Poll therefore fee? The Ambiguity lies again in <Ty7n, as we
fhew'd before. But thefe Sentences may be render'd into ha-
tin well enough \ but that which follows cannot poffibly by
iany Means be render'd, ^A^y. % aC (p\i Vt), tSttj cO tpni u)- (pns
•5 \iQov Vt), cv le^ (pijf Ai9©- ££)• Which they thus render,
pitas c^uod tu dicis ejfe j hoc tu dkh ej[e, diets autein lapidem
ejje, tu ergo lapis dicis ejje. Pray tell me what Senfe can be
made of thefe Words ? For the Ambiguity lies partly in the
Idiom of the Greek Phrafe, which is in the major and minor.
Although in the Major there is another Ambiguity in the two
Words 0 & tStd, which if they be taken in the nominative
Cafe, the Senfe will be. That which thou fayft thou art, that
thou art. But if in the accufative Cafe the Senfe will be,
Whatfoever thou fayft is, that thou fayft is ; and to this Senfe
he fubjoins h'l^v ^fii VI), but to the former Senfe he fubjoins
Gu l^ ?)n$^l•3■©- S)- Catullus once attempted to imitate the
Propriety of the Creek Tongue :
Thafshs ifie, quern 'videtis, hofpites, _
Ait fuijfe nai'iom celerrimus.
My Guefls, that Gaily nvhicb you fee
The mofifwift of the Navy is, fays he.
For fo was this Verfe in the old Edition. Thofe who write Com-
mentaries on thefe Places being ignorant of this, muft of Ne-
ceflity err many Ways. Neither indeed can that which im-
mediately follows be perfpicuous in the Latin. Ka« a.e^ ^
tnyuvia Kiynv i J^'ijov >B S^, tt? my^vpj. Kiyav ; to ve ■?' Ki-pv-ra.
nyAV> 3^ 7B Ttt M-pij^et, That they have render'd thus ; £#
putas, eji tacentem dicere ? Duplex ej/im efi, tacentem dicers j
^ hunc dicere tacentem, ^ qua dicuntur. Are not thefe Words
more obfcure than the Books of the Sibyls ? Hi. I am not fatisfy'd
with the Greek, he. I'll interpret it as well as I can. Is ic
poffible for a Man to fpeak while he is filent ? This Interro-
gation has a two-fold Senfe, the one of which is falfe and
abfurd, and the other may be true; for it cannot poffibly be
that he who fpeaks, fhould not fpeak what he does fpeak y that
is, that he fliould be filent while he is fpeaking ; but it is pof-
fible, that he who fpeaks may be fjlent of him who fpeaks.
Although this Example falls into another Form that he adds a
little after : And again, I admire, that a little after, in that
kind of Aipbiguity that arifes from more Words conjoin'd*
3 "the
[ ^^3 ]
the Greekt have chang'd the Word Seculum into the "Letters,
.^'satS^ 7a y^.{j.yi,dL'TV., feeing that the Latin Copies have it
feire jeadum. For here arifes a double Senfe, either that the
Age it felf might know fomething, or that fomebody might
know the Age. But this is an eafier Tranflation of it into
gJiUVA or ^ixiMiV, than into y^^nxct-m- For it is abfurd to
fay that Letters know any Thing , but it is no Abfurdity to fay,
fomething is known to our Age, or that any one knows his Age.
And a little after, where he propounds an Ambiguity in the
Accent, the Tranflator does not ftick to put Virgits Words
inftead of Homer's, when there was the fame Necellity in that
Example, ^icquid dices ejje, hoc efi. What thou fayefi is, it
is. ^rijlotle out of Homer hys, ? j(^7a;7u'3t3 o/wCpeu, if » fliould
be afpirated and circumflefted, it founds in Latin thus j Cujus
coMputrefcit plwvia j by whofe Rain it putrifies ^ but if % be
acuted and exile, it founds, Non computrefcit pluvia i it does
not putrify with Rain ; and this indeed is taken out of the
Iliad 4- Another is, JiJ^fnv q ol gy%©^ *?e^, the Accent
being placed upon the lalt Syllable but one, lignifies, grant
to him J but plac'd upon the firft Syllable J^'JhuiVy fignifies,
rue grant. But the Poet did not ihmk Jupiter faid, we grant
to him ; but commands the Dream itfelf to grant him, to
whom it is fent to obtain his Defire, For J)Ii^v, is ufed for
J)Jh'¥Kaj. Forthefetwo of Homer, thefe two are added out of
our Poets ^ as that out of the Odes of Horace.
Me tuo longas pereunte noSies,
Lydia dormis.
For if the Accent be on me being fliort, and t» be pro-
nounc'd fhort, it is one Word metuo j that is, timeo, I am
afraid : Although this Ambiguity lies not in the Accent only,
but alfo arifes from the Compofition.
They have brought another Example out of Virgil \
Heu ! ^uia nam tanti cinxerunt athera nimbi.
Although here alfo the Ambiguity lies in the Compofition,'
Hi. Leonard, Thefe Things are indeed Niceties, worthy to
be known • but in the mean Time, I'm afraid our Enter-
tainment fhould feem rather a Sophiftical one, than a Poetical
one : At another Time, if you pleafe, we'll hunt Nicedes
and Criticifms for a whole Day together. Le. That is as
much as to fay, we'll hunt for Wood in a Grove, or leek for
Water in the Sea. Hi. Where is my Moufe .^ Mott. Here
h,Qi^. Hi. Bid iV/^r^<zreif bring up the Sweet-meats. Mou. Igo»
P 3 Sir^
[ 214 ]
sir. Hi. What ! do you come again empty-handed ? M&».
She fays, (he never thought of any Sweet-meats, and that you
have fat long enough already. Hi. I am afraid, if we fhould
philofophixe any longer, fhe'll come and overthrow the Ta-
ble, as Xantippe did to Socrates j therefore it is better for us
to take our Sweet-meats in the Garden j and there we may
walk and talk freely i and let every one gather what Fruit
he likes beft off of the Trees. Guefls. We like your Mo-
tion very well. Hi. There is a little Spring fweeter than any
Wine. Ca. How ccmes it about, that your Garden is neater
than your Hall. Hi. Becaufe I fpend moft of my Time
here. If you like any Thing that is here, don't fpare what-
ever you find. And now if you think you have walk'd
enough, what if we fhould fit down together under this Teil
Tree, and rouze up our Mufes. Va. Come on then, let us
do fo. Hi. The Garden itfelf will afFord us a Theme. Ta.
If you lead the Way, we will follow you. Hi. Well, I'll
do fo. He adts very prepofteroufly, who has a Garden
neatly trimm'd up, and furnifh'd with various Delicacies, and
at the fame Time, has a Mind adorn'd with no Sciences nor
Virtues. Le. We fhall believe the Mufes themfelves ar«
amongft us, if thou fhalt give us the fame Sentence in Verfe. Hi.
That's a great deal more eafy to me to turn Profe into Verfe,
than it is to turn Silver into Gold. he. Let us have it then :
Hi. Cut renidet hortus undiquaque flofculiSy
yinimumque nullis expolitum dotibus
Squallere patitur, isfacit prapofiere.
Whofe Garden is all grac'd with Flowers fweet.
His Soul mean while being impolite.
Is far from doing what is meet.
Hi. Here's Verfes for you, without the Mufes or Apollo ; but
it will be very entertaining, if every one of you will render
this Sentence into feveral different Kinds of Verfe, Le. What
fhall be his Prize that gets the Vidtory ? Hi. This Basket full,
cither of Apples, or Plumbs, or Cherries., or Medlars, or
Pears, or of any Thing elfehe likes better, L,e. Who fhould
be the Umpire of the Trial of Skill ? Hi. Who (Tiall but
Crato ? And therefore he fhall be excufed from verfifying,
that he may attend the more diligpndy. Cr. I'm afraid you'll
have fuch a kind of Judge, as the Cuckoo and Nightingal
once had, when they vy'd one with the other, who fhould
fing beft. Hi. I like him if the reft do. Gu. We like our
Umpire. Begin, Letnard.
Lc.
Le. Cut tot deliciU renidet bortuf, f
Herhis, floribus, arborumque fcetu,
Et multo ^ vario, nee excolendum
Curat peBus ^ artihus probatis,
Et virtuttbus, is mihi videtur
Lavo Judk'xo, ^aruni^ue redio.
Who that his Garden fhine doth mind
With Herbs and Flowers, and Fruits of various kind j
And in mean while, his Mind negleded lies
Of Arc and Virtue voidj he is not wife.
I have faid.
W. Carims bites his Nails, we look for fomething elaborate
from him. Ca. I'm out of the poetical Vein.
Cur a cui «•/?, ut niteat hortus flofculis ac fcetibuSj
NegUgenti excolere pe^us difciplhth optimis ;
Hie labore, mihi ut videtur» ringitur prapofiero..
Whofe only Care is that his Gardens be
With Flow'rs and Fruits furnifli'd moft pleafantly,
I But difregards his Mind with Arc to grace.
Bellows his Pains and Care much like an Afs.
W. You han't bit your Nails for nothing. Eu. Wells
fince my Turn is next, that I may do fomething,
^i (ludet ut variis niteat cultijjimui hortus
Delieiis, patiens animum pptallere, nee ullis
Artibui: expoliens, huie eft prapojiera cur a.
Who cares to have his Garden neat and rare.
And doth of Ornaments his Mind leave bare,
Adts but with a prepofterous Care.
V/e have no need to fpur Sbrulius on, for he is fo fluent at
Verfes, that he oftentimes tumbles 'em out, before he is aware*
Sb. Cui vernat hortus cult us ^ elegans»
Nee pe&us ullis artibus excolit,
Trapofiera is cura laborat.
Sit ratio tibi prima wentis.
P4 '!^^o
[.in
\ Who to make his Garden fpring, much Care imparts.
And yet negleds his Mind to grace with Arcs,
Acts wrong : Look chiefly to improve thy Parts.
pa. ^dfquis accurat variii tit hortus
Floribus •vernet, nec^ue peBus idem.
Artibus fanSiis colit, httnc habet pra-
pojiera cura. •;
Who to his Soul prefers a Flower or worfe.
May well be faid to fet the Cart before the Horfe.'
Hi. Now let us try to which of us the Garden will afford
the mod Sentences. Le. How can fo rich a Garden but do
that ? even this Rofe-bed will furnifh me with what to fay.
As the Beauty of a Rofe is fading, fo is Youth foon gone;
you make hafte to gather your Role before it withers ; you s
ought more earncftly to endeavour that your Youth pafs not 1
away without Fruit. Hi. It is a Theme very fit for a Verfe. \
fa. As am.ong Trees, every one hath its Fruits : So among
Men, every one hath his natural Gift. Eu. As the Earth, if
it be till'd, brings forth various Things for human Ufe i and
being neglected, is cover'd with Thorns and Briars : So the
Genius of a Man, if it be accomplifh'd with honeft Studies,
yields a great many Virtues ; but if it be neglected, is over-
run with various Vices. Sb. A Garden ought to be dreft
every Year, that it may look handfome ; The Mind being
once furnifli'd with good Learning, does always fiourifli and
fpring forth. Pa. As the Pleafantnefs of Gardens does not
draw the Mind ofF from honeft Studies, but rather invites it to
them : So we ought to feek for fuch Recreations and Diver-
cifements, as are not contrary to Learning. Hi. O brave !
I fee a v/hole fvvarm of Sentences. Now for Verfe : But
before we go upon that, I am of the Mind, it will be no
improper nor unprofitable Exercife to turn the firft Sentence
into Greek Verfe, as often as we have turn'd it into Latin.
And let Leonard begin, that has been an old Acquaintance
of the Greek Poets. Le. I'll begin if you bid me. Hi. I
both bid and command you.
He
t ^«7 ]
He never entered Wifdom's Doors
Who delights himfelf in fimple Flowers^"
And his foul Soul negledts to cleanfe.
This Man knows not what Virtue means.
I have begun, let him follow me that will. Hi. Carimt. Ca]
Nay, Hilary. Le. But I fee here's Margaret coming upon us
of a fudden, llie's bringing I know not what Dainties. Hi.
If fhe does To, fhe'U do more than I thought flre'd do. My
Fury, what haft brought us ? Ma. Muftard-feed, to feafon
your Sweet-meats. An't you afhamed to ftand prating here
till I can't tell what time of Night ? And yet you Poecs are
always refleding againft Womens Talkativenefe. Cr, Margaret
fays very right, it is high Time for every one to go Home
to Bed : At another time we'll fpend a Day in this commen-
dable kind of Conteft. Hi. But who do you give the Prize
to? Cr. For this Time I allot it to myfelf. For no Body has
overcome but I. Hi. How did you overcome that did non
•contend at all. Cr. Ye have contended, but not try'ditout.
I have overcome Margaret, and that is more than any of you
could do. Ca. Hi. He demands what's his Right, let him
have the Basket,
■imi ■[fcr»irTrr-w^"^n
An
[4l8]
An Enquiry concerning Faith.
The Argument.
^his Inquljlt'ion concerning Faith, comprehends the Sum and
Sub fiance of the Catholick Profejfion. He here intro"
duces a Lutheran that by the Means of the orthodox
Faith, he may bring either Party to a Reconcilia'
tion. Concerning Excommunication, and the Pope's
thunderbolts. And alfo that we ought to ajfociate
ourfehes with the Impious and Heretical, if we have
any Hope of amending them. Symbolum is a mili-
tary Word. A moft divine and elegant Paraphrafe
upon the Apofiles Creed.
AULUS, BARBATUS.
/JU. Salute freely, is a Leflbn for Children. But I can't
•^^ tell whether I fhould bid you be well or no. Ba. In
Truth I had rather any one would make me well, than bid
me be fo. Aului, Why do yo\i fay that ? Au. Why ? Becaufe
if you have a mind to know, you fmell of Brimftone, or
Juptev\ Thunderbolt. Ba. There are mifchievous Deities,
and there are harmlefs Thunderbolts, that differ much in their
Original from thofe that are ominous. For I fancy you mean
fomething about Excommunication. Au. You're right. Ba,
I have indeed heard dreadful Thunders, but I never yet fele
the Blow of the Thunderbolt. .<^«.Howfo? Ba. Becaufelhave
never the worfe Stomach, nor my Sleep the lefs found. Au.
But a Diftemper is commonly fo much the more dangerous,
the lefs it is felt. But thefe brute Thunderbolts, as you call 'em,
ftrikc the Mountains and the Seas. Ba. They do ftrike 'em
indeed, but with Strokes tharhave no effedl upon 'em. There
is a fort of Lightning that proceeds from a Glafs or a Ve(^
fel of Brafs. Au. Why, and that affrights too. Ba. It may
be fo, but then none but Children are frighted at it. Nona
but God has Thunderbolts that ftrike the Soul. Au. But
fuppofe God is in his Vicar, Ba. I wiOi Ije were. Au. A
great many Folks admire, that you are not become blacker
than a Coal before now. Ba, Suppofe I w^e fo^ then the
Sal^a-:
[ 21^ ]
Salvation of a lofl: Perfon v/ere fo much the more to be de-
fircd, if Men followed the Dodrine of the Gofpel. Aa.
It is to be wifhed indeed^ but not to be fpoken of. Ba.
Why fo? Au. That he that is fmitten with the Thunder-
bolt may be afliamcd and repent. B^. If God had done fo
by us, we had been all loft. Au. Why fo ? Ba. Becaufe
when we were Enemies to God, and Worfhippers of Idols,
fighting under Satan's Banner, that is to fay, every Way moft
accurfed ^ then in an efpecial Manner he fpake to us by his
Son, and by his treating with us reftored us to Life when
we were dead, Au. That thou fay 'ft is indeed very true.
Ba In truth it would go very hard with all fuch Perfons, if
the Phyfician fhould avoid fpeaking to 'em, whenfoever any
poor Wretch was feized with a grievous Diftemper, for then
he has moft Occafion for the Affiftance of a Dodor. Au.
But I am afraid that you will fooner infed me with your Di-
ftemper than I fhall cure you of it. It foroetimes falls out
that he that vifits a fick Man is forced to be a Fighter inftead of
a Phyfician. Ba. Indeed it fometimes happens fo in bodily
Diftempers : Bat in the Difeafes of the Mind you have an
Antidote ready againft every Contagion. Au. What's that?
Ba. A ftrong Relblution not to be removed from the Opi-
nion that has been fixed in you. But befides, what need
you fear to become a Fighter, where the Bufinefs is mana-
ged by Words ">. Au. There is fomething in what you fay,
if there be any Hope of doing any good. Ba. While there
is Life there is Hope, and according to St. Vaul, Charity can't
defpair, becaufe it hopes all Things. Au. You obferve
very well, and upon this Hope I may venture to difcourfe
with you a little ^ and if you'll permit me, I'll be a Phyfician
to you. Ba. Do, with all my Heart. Au. Inquifitive Per-
fons are commonly hated, but yet Philofophers are allowed to
be inquifitive after every particular Thing. Ba. Ask me any
Thing that you have a mind to ask me. Au. I'll try. But
you muft promife me you'll anfwer me fincerely. Ba. I'll
promife you. But let me know what you'll ask me about.
Au. Concerning the Apoftles Creed. Ba. Symholum is in-
deed a military Word. I will be content to be look'd upon
an Enemy to Chrift, if I (hall deceive you in this Matter.
Au. Doft thou believe in God the Father Almighty, and who
made the Heaven and Earth. Ba. Yes, and whatfoever is
contained in the Heaven afJd Earth, and the Angels alfo
which are Spirits, Au. When thou fay'ft God, what doft
thou underftand by it.? Ba. I underftand a certain- eternal
Mind, which neither had Beginning nor fhall have any
End, than which nothing can be either greater, wifer, or
better.
[ 220 ]
better. An. Thou believeft indeed like a good Chriftian." Bal
Who by his omnipotent Beck made all Things vilible or invifi-
ble; who by his wonderful V/ifdom orders and governs all
Things i who by his Goodnefs feeds and maintains all Things,
and freely reftored Mankind when fallen. Att. Thefe are in-
deed three efpecial Attributes in God : But what Benefit doft
thou receive by the Knovv^ledge of them } Ba. When I con-
ceive him to be Omnipotent, I fubmit myfelf wholly to him,
in comparifon of whofe Majefty, the Excellency of Men
and Angels is nothing. Moreover, I firmly believe whatfo-
ever the holy Scriptures teach to have been done, and alfo
that what he hath promifed fhall be done by him, feeing he
can by his fingle Beck do whatfoever he pleafes, how impof-
lible foever it may feem to Man. And upon that Account
diftrufting my own Strength, I depend v^^holly upon him
who can do all Things. When I conftder his Wifdom, I at-
tribute nothing at all to my own, but I believe all Things are
done by him righteoufly and juftly, although they may feem
to human Senfe abfurd or unjuft. When I animadvert on
his Goodnefs, I fee nothing in myfelf that I do not owe to
free Grace, and I think there is no Sin (b great, but he is wil-
ling to forgive to a true Penitent, nor nothing but what he
will freely beftow on him that asks in Faith. Au. Doft thou
think that it is fufficient tor thee to believe him to be fo } Ba.
By no Means. But with a fincere AflFedion I put my whole
Truft and Confidence in him alone, detefting Satan, and all
Idolatry, and magic Arts. I worfhip him alone, preferring
nothing before him, nor equalling nothing with him, neither
Angel, nor my Parents, nor Children, nor Wife, nor Prince,
nor Riches, nor Honours, nor Pleafures -, being ready to lay
down my Life if he call for it, being aflur'd that he can'c
poffibly perifh who commits himfelf wholly to him. Au.
What then, doft thou worfhip nothing, fear nothing, love
nothing but God alone ? Ba. If I reverence any thing,
fear any thing, or love any thing, it is for his Sake I love
it, fear it, and reverence it ; referring all Things to his Glo-
ry, always giving Thanks to him for whatfoever happens, whe-
ther profperous or adverfe. Life or Death. Au. la truth
your Confeffion is very found ib far. What do you think
concerning the fecond Perfon ? Ba. Examine me. Au.
Doft thou believe Jefus was God and Man } Ba. Yes. Au.
Could it be that the fame fhould be both immortal God and
mortal Man ? Ba. That was an eafy Thing for him to do who
can do what he will : And by reafon of his divine Nature,
which is common to him with the Father, whatfoever
Great-
[ aai ]
GreatnefSi Wifdomj and Goodnefs I attribute to the Fathef^
I attribute the fame to the Son ; and whatfoever I owe to
the Father, I owe alfo to the Son, but only that it hath
feemed good to the Father to create the World by his
Son, and to beftow all Things on us through him. Au.
Why then do the holy Scriptures more frequently call the
Son Lord than God ? Ba. Becaufe God is a Name of Au-
thority, that is to fay, of Sovereignty, which in an efpecial
Manner belongefh to the Father, who is abfolutely the
Original of all Things, and the Fountain even of the God-
head itfelf. Lord is the Name of a Redeemer and Deli-
verer, altho' the Father alfo redeemed us by his Son, and
the Son is God, but of God the Father. But the Father
only is from none, and obtains the 6rfl: Place among the
divine Perfons. Au. Then doll thou put thy Confidence
in Jefus ? Ba. Why not ? Au. But the Prophet calls him
accurfed who puts his Truft in Man. Ba. But to this Man
alone hath all the Power in Heaven and Earth been given,
that at his Name every Knee fhould bow, both of Things
in Heaven, Things in Earth, and Things under the Earth.
Although I would not put my chief Confidence and Hope
in him, unlefs he were God. Au. Why do you call him
Son ? Ba. Left any fhould imagine him to be a Creature,
Au. Why an only Son ? Ba. To diftinguifli the natural
Son from the Sons by Adoption, the Honour of which
Sirname he imputes to us alfo, that we may look for no
other befides this Son. Au. Why would he have him to be
made Man, who was God ? Ba. That being Man, he
might reconcile Men to God. Au. Doft thou believe he
was conceived without the Help of Man, by the Operation
of the holy Ghoft, and born of the undefiled Virgin Mary^
taking a mortal Body of her Subftance ? Ba, Yes. Au. Why
would he be fo born ? Ba. Becaufe it fo became God to be
born, becaufe it became him to be born in this Manner,
who was to cleanfe av/ay the Filthinefs of our Conception
and Birth. God would have him to be born the Son of
Man, that we being regenerated into him, might be made
the Sons of God. Au. Doft thou believe that he lived here
upon Earth, did Miracles, taught thofe Things that are re-
corded to us in the Gofpel ? Ba. Ay, more certainly than
I believe youto be a Man. Au. I am not an Apuleius
turned infide out, that you fhould fufpecl that an Afs lies hid
under the Form of a Man. But do you believe this very
Perfon to be the very Meffiah whom the Types of the
Law fliadowed out, which the Oracle of the Prophets
pro-
promifec!, which the Jev^s looked for fb many Ages?
IBa. I believe nothing more hrmly. Au. Doft rhou be-
lieve his Dodrine and Life are fufficient to lead us to
perfed Piety ? Ba. Yes, perfedlly fufficient. Au. Doll
thou believe that the fame was really apprehended by
the JenxiS, bound, buflFeted, beaten, fpit upon, mock'd,
fcourg'd under Tonthis Pi/ate ; and laftly, nailed to the
Crofs, and there died ? Ba. Yes, I do. Au. Do you
believe him to have been free from all the Lzw of
Sin whatfoever ? Ba. Why fhould I not ? A Lamb without
Spot. Au. Doft thou believe he fuffered all thefe Things
of his own accord ? Ba. Not only willingly, but even
with great Defire ; but according to the Will of his Fa-
ther. Au. Why would the Father have his only Son, be-
ing innocent and moft dear to him, fuffer all thefe Things ?
Ba. That by this Sacrifice he might reconcile to himfelf us
who were guilty, we putting our Confidence and Hope in
his Name. Au. Why did God fuffer all Mankind thus to
fall ? And if he did fuffer them, was there no other Way
to be found out to repair our Fall ? Ba, Not human Rea-
fon, but Faith hath perfuaded me of this, that it could be
done no Way better nor more beneficially for our Salvati-
on. Au. Why did this kind of Death pleafe him befl ?
Ba. Becaufe in the Eileem of the World it was the mofl
difgraceful, and becaufe the Torment of it was cruel and
Jingring, becaufe it was meet for him who would invite all
the Nations of the World unto Salvation, with his Members
ftretch'd out into every Coaft of the World, and call oflf
Men, who were glew'd unto earthly Cares, to heavenly
Things ; and, laft of all, that he might reprefent to us the
brazen Serpent that Mofes fet up upon a Pole, that whoever
fliould fix his Eyes upon it, fhould be heal'd of the Wounds
of the Serpent, and fulfil the Prophet's Promife, who pro-
pheCied, fay ye amovg the Natiom, God hath reigned from a
Tree. Au. Why would he be buried alfo, and that fo curi-
oufly anointed with Myrrh and Ointments, inclofed in a
new Tomb, cut out of a hard and natural Rock, the Door
being feal'd, and alfo publick Watchmen fet there } Ba. That
it might be the more manifeffc that he was really dead. Au.
Why did he not rife again prefendy ? Ba. For the very fame
Reafon j for if his Death had been doubtful, his Refurredion
had been doubtful too ^ but he would have that to be as cer-
tain as poflible could be. Au. Do you believe his Soul de-
fcended into Hell ? Ba. St. Cyprian affirms that this Claufe
was not formerly inferted either in the Roman Creed or in the
Creed of the Eaftern Churches, neither is it recorded in Ter-
tuUian,
[ 223 ]
tullian, a very ancient Writer. And yet notwithftanding, I
do firmly believe it, both becaufe it agrees wirh the Prophecy
of the Pfalm, Thou ijuilf not leave rny Soul in Hell •, and again,
O Lord, thou hafi brought my Soul out of Hell. And alfo be-
caufe the Apoftle Peter, in the third Chapter of his firft E-
piftle (of the Author whereof no Man ever doubted,) writes
after this Manner, Being put to Death in the Flep, but quick-
Tied by the Spirit, in 'which alfo he came and preached by his
Spirit, to thoje that ivere in Prifon. But though I believe he
defcended into Hell, yet I believe he did not fuflFer any thing
there. For he defcended not to be tormented there, but
that he might deftroy the Kingdom of Satan, ^u. Well, I
hear nothing yet that is impious , but he died that he might
reftore us to Life again, who were dead in Sin. But why
did he rife to live again ? Ba. For three reafons efpeci-
ally. ^u. Which are they ? Ba. Firft of all, to give us
an aflur'd Hope of our Refurredtion. Secondly, that we
might know that he in whom we have plac'd the Safety of
our Refurredtion b immortal, and fhall never die. Laftly,
that we being dead in Sins by Repentance, and buried toge-
ther with him by Baptifm, fhould by his Grace be raifed up a-
gaintoncwnefsof Life. .Au. Do you believe that the very fame
Body that died upon the Crofs, which reviv'd in the Grave,
which was feen and handled by the Difciples, afcended jinto
Heaven > Ba. Yes, I do. ^u. Why would he leave the
Earth ? Ba. That we might all love him fpiritually, and
that no Man fliould appropriate Chrift to himfelf upon the
Earth, but that we fhould equally lift up our Minds to Hea-
ven, knov/ing that our Head is there. For if Men now
fo much pleafe themfelves in the Colour and Shape of the
Garment, and do boaft fo much of the Blood or the Fore-
skin of Chrift, and the Milk oi: the Virgin Mary, what do
you think would have been, had he abode on the Earth,
eating and difcourfing } What DilTentions would thofe Pecu-
liarities of his Body have occafioned ? ^u. Doft thou
believe that he, being made immortal, fictethatthe right Hand
of the Father. Ba. Why not ? As being Lord of all
Things, and Partaker of all his Father's Kingdom, he pro-
mifed his Difciples that this fhould be, and he prefented this
Sight to his Martyr Stephen. Au. Why did he i"hevv it ?
Ba. That we may not be difcouraged in any Thing, well
knowing what a powerful Defender and Lord we have in Hea-
ven. Au. Do you believe that he will come again in the fame
Body, to judge the Quick and the Dead ? Ba. As certain
as I am, that thofe Things the Prophets have foretold concern-
ing Chrift hitherto have come to pals, fo certain I am, that
what-
[ 224 1
whatfoever hs woald have us look for for the future, fhalt
come pals. We have feen his firft Coming, according to
the Predidtions of the Prophets, wherein he came in a low
Condition, to inftrud and fave. We (hall alfo fee his fe*
cond, when he will come on high, in the Glory his Father,
before whofe Judgment-feat all Men of every Nation, and
of every Condition, whether Kings or Peafants, Greeks, or
Scythia7is, fhall be compell'd to appear ; and not only thofe>
whom at that Coming he fhall find alive, but alfo all thofe
who have died from the Beginning of the World, even until
that Time, fhall fuddenly be raifed, and behold his Judge
every onein his own Body. The bleffed Angels alfo (hall be
there as faithful Servants, and the Devils to be judg'd. Then
he will, from on high, pronounce that unvoidable Sentence,
which will cafl the Devil, together with thofe that have ta-
ken his Part, into eternal Punifhments, that they may not af-
ter that, be able to do Mifchief to any. He will tranflate the
Godly, being freed from all Trouble, to a Fellowfliip with
him in his heavenly Kingdom : Although he would have the
Day of his coming unknown to all. Au. I hear no Error
yet. Let us now come to the third Perfon. Ba. As you
pleafe. Au. Doft thou believe in the holy Spirit? Ba. Ido be-
lieve that it is true God, together with the Father, and the
Son. I believe they that wrote us the Books of the Old and
New Teftament were infpired by it, without whofe Help
no Man attains Salvation. Au, Why is he called a Spirit ?
Ba. Becaufe as our Bodies do live by Breath, fo our Minds
are quicken'd by the (ecret Infpiration of the holy Spirit. Au.
Is it not lawful to call the Father a Spirit ? Ba. Why
not. Au. Are not then the Perfons confounded } Ba.
No, not at all, for the Father is called a Spirit, becaufe
' he is without a Body, which Thing is common to all the
Perfons, according to their divine Nature : But the third Per-
fon is called a Spirit, becaufe he breathes out, and transfufes
himfelf infenfibly into our Minds, even as the Air breathes
from the Land, or the Rivers. Au, Why is the Name of Son,
given to the fecond Perfon } Ba. Becaufe of his perfed
Likenefs of Nature and Will. Au. Is the Son more like
the Father, than the holy Spirit ? Ba. Not according to the
divine Nature, except that he refembles the Property of the
Father the more in this, that the Spirit proceeds from him
alfo. Au. What hinders then, but that the holy Spirit may
be called Son. Ba. Becaufe, as St. Hilary faith, I no where
read that he was begotten, neither do I read of his Father j
I read of the Spirit, and that proceeding from. Au. Why
is the Father alone called God in the Creed ? Sa. Becaufe
[ 2ii 1
he, as I have faid before, is fimply the Author of all Things
that are, and the Fountain of the whole Deity, ^u. Speak
in plainer Terms. Ba. Becaufe nothing can be nam'd which
hath not its Original from the Father: For indeed, in this
very Thing, that the Son and Holy Spirit is God, they ac-
knowledge that they received it from the Father • therefore
the chief Authority, that is to fay, the Caufe of Beginning, is
in the Father alone, becaufe he alone is of none : But yet,
in the Creed it may be fo taken, that the Name of God may
not be proper to one Perfon, but ufed in general • becaufe,
it is diftinguifli'd afterwards by the Terms of Father, Son,
and Holy Spirit, into one God ; which Word of Nature
comprehends the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; that is to
fay, the three Perfons. Au. Doft thou believe in the holy
Church? Ba. No. u^u. What fay you? Do you not believe
in it? Ba. I believe the holy Church, which is the Body of
Chrift; that is to fay, a certain Congregation of all Men
throughout the whole World, who agree in the Faith of the
Gofpel, who worfhip one God the Father, who put their
whole Confidence in his Son, who are guided by the fame Spiric
of him: Fromwhofe Fellowfliip he is cut off that commits a
deadly Sin. .Au. But why do you ftick to fay, I believe in
the holy Church? Ba. Becaufe St. Cyprian hath taught me,
that we muft believe in God alone, in whom we abfolutely
put all our Confidence. Whereas the Church, properly fo
called, although it conGfts of none but good Men ; yet ic
confifts of Men, who of good may become bad, who may
be deceived, and deceive others, Au. What do you think of
the Communion of Saints ? Ba. This Article is not at all
meddled with by Cyprian, when he particularly fhews what
in fuch and fuch Churches is more or iefs ufed; for he thus
conneds them : For there followeth after this Saying, the
holy Church, the Forgivenefs of Sivs, the 'RejurreBion of this
'Fleflj. And fome are of Opinion, that this Part does not
differ from the former; but that it explains and enforces what
before was called the holy Church ; fo that the Clrarch is no-
thing elfe but the ProfefBon of one God, one Gofpel, one
Faith, one Hope, the Participation of the fame Spirit, and
the fame Sacraments : To be fliort, fuch a kind of Commu-
nion of all good Things, amon^ all godly Men, who have
been from the Beginning of the World, even to the End of it, as
the Fellowfhip of the Members of the Body is between one
another . So that the good Deeds of one may help another,
until they become lively Members of the Body. But out of
this Society, even one's own good Works do not further his
^alvarion, unlefs he be recorc I'd to the holy Congregation ;
[ lio
gnd therefore it Follows, the Forgivenefs of Sins \ becaufe out
of the Church there is no Remifiion of Sins, although a Man
fhould pine himfelf away with Repentance, and exercife
Works of Charity, In the Church, I fay, not of Hereticks^.
but the holy Church j that is to fay, gathered by the Spirit of
Chrift, there is Forgivenefs of Sins by Baptifm, and after Bap-^
tifm, by Repentance, and the Keys given to the Church, ^u.
Thus far they are the Words of a Man that is found in the
!Faith. Do you believe that there will be a Refurredlion of
the Flefli ? Ba. I iliould believe all the reft to no purpofe,
i[ I did not believe this, which is the Head of all, -.^^/.What
doft thou mean, when thou fay'ft the Flefh ? Ba. An human
Body animated with a Soul. Au. Shall every Soul receive its
own Body which is I-fp dead? Ba. The very fame from
whence it went out ^ and therefore, in Cyprian's Creed, it is
added, of this Flefh. Ait. How can it be, that the Body
■which hath been now fo often chang'd out of one Thing in-
to another, can rife again the fame? Ba. He who could •:
create whatfoever he would out of nothing, is it a hard Matter
for hrm to reftore to its former Nature that which hith been
changedin its Form ? I don't difpure anxioufly wnich Way in
can be done ^ it is fufficienc to me, that hejwho hath promifed
thatitfhall befo, is fo true, that he can't lye, and fo powerful
as to be able to bring to pals with a Beck, whatfoever he pleafes.
Alt. What need will there be of a Body then ? Ba. That the
whole Man may be glorified with Chrifb, who, in this Worlds
was v/holly afflided with Chrift. Au. What means that which
he adds, 'and Life everlafiivg ? Ba. Left any one llaould
think that we fhall fo rife again, as the Frogs revive at the
Beginning of the Spring, to die again. For here is a twofold
Death of the Body, that is common to all Men, both good
and bad ; and of the Soul, and the Death of the Soul is Sin.
But after the Refurreftion, the godly fliali have everlafting
Life, both of Body and Soul : Nor fhall the Body be then
any more obnoxious to Difeafes, old Age, Hunger, Thirfl,
Pain, Wearinefs, Death, or any Inconvenienciesj but being
made fpirirual, it fliall be mov'd as the Spirit will have it :
Nor fliall the Soul be any more ibllicited with any Vices or
Sorrows j but (li^ll for ever enjoy the chiefeft Good, which
is God himfelf. On the contrary, eternal Death, both of
Body and Soul, fhall Veize upon the wicked. For their Body
flrall be made immortcl, in order to the enduring everlafting
Torments, and their Soul to be continually vexed with the
Gripes of their Sins, without any Hope of Pardon. Au. Doft
thou believe thefe things from thy very Heart, and unfeigned-
ly ? Ba. I believe them fo certainly, I tell you, that I am
not
4
[ 2^7 ]
not Co fure that you talk with me. Au. When I was ac
Rome, I did not find all Co found in the Faith. Ba. Nay j
but if you examine thoroughly^ you'll find a great many
others in other Places too, which do not fo firmly believe
thefe Things, y^u. Well then, fince you agree with us in
fo many and weighty Points, what hinders that you are not
wholly on our Side? Ba. I have a mind to hear that of you:
For I think that I am Orthodox. Although I will not warrant •
for my Life j yet I endeavour all I can, that it may be fuit-
able to my Profeflion. Au. How comes it about then, that
there is fo great a War between you and the Orthodox ?
Ba. Do you enquire into that : But hark you, Dodor, if you
are not difpleafed with this Introdudion, take a fmall Dinner
with mej and after Dinner, you may enquire of every T'hing
at leifure: I'll give you both Arms to feel my Pulfe, and you
iliall fee both Stool and Urine j and after that, if you pleaf?:,
you fhall anatomize this whole Breaft of mine, that you may
make a better Judgment of me. ^u. But I make it a mat-
ter of Scuruple to eat with thee. Ba. But Phyficians
ufe to eac with their Patients, that they might bet-
ter obferve what they love, and wherein they are irregu-
lar, ^u. But I am afraid, left I fhould feem to favour Here-
ticks. Ba. Nay, but there is nothing more religious than to
favour Hereticks. yiu. How fo ? Ba. Did not Faul wilh
to be made an Anathema for the Jews, which v»'ere worfa
than Hereticks? Does not he favour him that endeavours
that a Man may be made a good Man of a bad Man ? Au,
Yes, he does fo. Ba. S^tW then, do you favour me thus,
and you need not fear any Thing. Au. I never heard a fick
Man anfwer more to the Purpoie. Well, come on, let me
dine with you then. Ba. You fliall be entertain'd in a phy-
fical Way, as it becomes a Dodtor by his Patient, and we will
fo refrefh our Bodies with Food, that the Mind fhall be ne-
ver the lefs fit for Difputation. Au. Well, let it be fo, with
good Birds {i. e. with good Succefs). Ba. Nay, it fliall be
with bad Fiflies, unlefs you chance to have forgot that it is Fri'
(lay. Ah. Indeed, that is befides our Creed.
,0.^ Th«
[ 2=8 ]
The old Mens Dialogue.
The Argument.
n«f (5V7D\6>/«i, or "Oy^fia, Jbews, as M it were in »
Looking-glafs^ ivbat "things are to be avoided in Life ^
and what fhi^igs contribute to the Tranquillity of Life .
Old Men that were formerly intimate Acquaintance
when Boys^ after forty Tears Ab fence ^ one from the
other ^ hap^n to meet together^ ZP^^^ ^o Antwerp.
'iThere feems to be a very great Inequality in them that
areequalinAge. Volygtimus, he is very old : Glycion
has no Signs of Age upon him^ tho'' he isfxtyftx'j h»
fropofes a Method of keeping off old Age. i. He con-
fults what Sort of Life to chufe^ and follows the Ad-
vice of a prudent old Man^ who perfuadeshimtomar'
ry a TVife that was his equal^ making his Choice with
judgment^ before he falls in Love. z. He has born
a fuhlick Office^ but not obnoxious to trouhlefome Af-
fairs. 3 . He tranfacls Affairs that do not expofe him
to Envy. 4- He bridles his Tongue, f. He is not
violently fond of, mr averfe to any Thing. He mode-
rates his AffeiHons.y fff^^^ ^^ Sorrow to abide with
him all Night. 6. He abjlaim from Fices, and re-
mws his Patience every Day. 7. He is not anxioujly
iJjougbtfal of Death. 8. He does not travel into fo^
reign Countries. 9. He has nothing to do with Do-
^ors. 10. He diverts himfelf with Study, but does
not fludy himfelf lean. On the other hand. Poly-
gam us has brought old Age upon him, by the IntempC"
ranee of his Touth, by Drinking, linooring, Gatningy
running in Debt j he had had eight Wives. Pampi*
ni5, he becomes a Merchant ; but con fumes all he has
hyGaming\ thenhebet-omes a Canon > then a Carthu-
ftan jr after that a Beneditline > and lajl of allj
1 iitrns
[ ^^i? ] .
tmns Soldier. Eufebius, he gets a good Ben'eflce and
preaches.
EUSEBIUS, PAMPIRUS, POLYGAMUS,
GLYCION, HUGUrriO, and HARRY the
Coachman.
TpuSEB. What new Faces do I fee here ? If I am
•^~-* not miftaken, or do not fee clear, I fee three old Com-
panions fitting by me ; Tampims, Folygamus and Glycmt ;
they are certainly the very fame. Ta. What do you mean,
with your Glafe Eyes, you Wizard ? Pray come nearer a
little, Evffbius. Po. Hail, heartily, w/ wifii'd for Eufebius.
Gl. All Healch to you, the beft of Men. Eu. One Biefllna;
upon you all, my dear Friends. What God, or providential
Chance has brought us together novj, for I believe none of
us have feen the one the other, for this forty Years. If'hy
Mercury with his Mace could not have more luckily broughc
us together into a Circle j hut what are you doing here ?
Ta. We are fitting. Eu. I fee that, but what do you fic for.>
To. We wait for the A^ttwerp Waggon, Eu.Hloat, are you
going to the Fair.^ Po. We are fo : But rather Spedlators,
than Traders, tho' one has one Bufineis, and another has
another. Eu. Well, and I am going thither myfelf too.
But what hinders you, that you are not going ? Po. We
han't agreed with the Waggoner yet. Eu. Thefe Waggo-
ners are a furly fort of People ; but are you willing that we
put a Trick upon them } Po. With all my Heart, if it can
be done fairly. Eu. We will pretend that we will go thi-
ther a-foot together. Po. They'll fooner believe that a Crab-
fifh will fiy, than that fuch heavy Fellows as we will take fuch
a Journey on foot. Eu. Will you follo'vj good wholfome
Advice? Po. Yes, by all means. Gl. They are a drink-
ing, and the longer they are fuddling, the more danger we
fhall be in of being overturned in the Dirt. Po. You mult
come very early, if you find a Waggoner fober. Gl. Let
us hire the Waggon for us four by ourfelves, that we
may get to Antwerp the fooner : It is but a little more
Charge, not worth minding, and this Expence will be
made up by many Advantages j we fiiall have the more
room, and fhall pafs the Journey the more pleafantly in mutual
Converfation. Po. Glycion is much in the right on't. For
good Companyin a Journey does the Office of a Coach; and
according to the Greek Proverb, we fhall have more Li-
berty of calking, no: about a Waggon, but in a Waggon,
0.3 G/.
[ 230 ]
Gl. Well, I have made a Bargain, let us get up. Now
I've a mind to be merry, feeing I have had the good Luck
to fee my old dear Comrades after fo long a Separation.
Eu. And methinks I feem to grow young again. Po. How
many Years do you reckon it, fince we lived together at
F^ris. Eu. I bel:-:ve it is not leis than two and forty Years.
P<sr,v;^. Thi^n we feem'd to be all pretty much of an Age.
Eu. We were Co, pretiy near the Matter, for if there was
any Difference it was very little. Pamp. B-t what a great
Difference does there feem to be now ? For Glyc'ton has
nothing of an old Man about him^ and Folygamus looks
old enough to be his Grandfather. Eu. Why truly he does
fo, but what fhould be the Reafon of it ? Famp. What "?
Why either the one loirer'd and flopp'd in his Courfe, or
the other run fafler (out-run him), Eu. Oh! Time does
not ftay, how much foever Men may loiter. Fo. Come,
tell us, Glycion truly, how many Years do you num-
ber. -G/ More than Ducats in my Focket. Fo. Well, but
how many ? Gl Threefcore and fix. Eu. Why thoul't ne-
ver be old. Fo. Bat by what Arts hafl thou kept ofp old
Age; for you have no grey Hairs, nor Wrinkles in your
Skin, your . Eyes are lively, your Teeth are white and
even, you have a frefh Colour, and a plump Body. Gl.
I'll tell you my Art, upon Condition you'll tell us your
Art of coming to be old fo foon. Fo. I agree to the Con-
dition. I'll do it. Then tell us whither you went when
you left Paris ? Gl I went diredlly into my own Coun-
try, and by that tmie I had been there almoft a Year, I
began to bethink myfelf what Courfe of Life to chufcj
which I thoufi;ht to be a Matter of great Importance, as
to my future Happinefs ; fo I caft my Thoughts about what
had been fuccefsful to feme, and what had been unfuccefs-
ful to others, Fo. I admire you had fo much Prudence,
when you were as great a Maggot as any in the World,
when you were at Paris. Gl. Then my Age did permit
a little Wildnefs. But, my good Friend, you mujl know, I
did not do all this neither of my own mother-Wit. Fo.
Indeed I flood in Admiration. Gl. Before I engaged in
any thing, I applied to a certain Citizen, a Man of Gra-
vity, of the grc2tc(l Prudence by long Experience, and of
a general Reputation with his fellqvj Citizens, and in my
Opinion, the molt happy .Man in the World, Eu. You
did wifely. Gl. By this Man's Advice I married a Wile,
Fo. Had (he a very good Portion ? Gl. An indiiTerent good
one, and according to the Proverb, in a competent Pro-
portion to my own : For I had juil enough to do my
Dufincls,
[ ^31 ]
Bufinefs, and this Matter fucceeded to my Mind. To. WhaC
was your Age then ? Gl. Almoll two and twenty. To. Q
happy Man ! Gl. Bat don't miftake the Matter ; all this
was not owing to Fortune neither. Po. Why fo ? G/. I'll
tell you j fome love before they chufe, I made my Choice
with Judgment firft, and then lov'd aferwards:, and never-
thelefs I married this Woman more for the fake of Pofte-
rity than for any carnal Satisfaction. With her I liv'd a
very pleafant Life, but not above eight Years. Fo. Did flie
leave you no Children ? Gl. Nay^ I have four alive, two
Sons and two Daughters. Fo. Do you Uveas a private Perfon,
or in fome publick Office. Gl. I have a publick Employ.
I might have happen'd to have got into a higher Poft, buE
I chofe this becaufe it was credible enough to fecure me
from Conremptj and is free from rroublefome Attendance :
And it is fuchj that no Body need objed againft me that
I live only for myfelf, I have alfo fomething to Jpare now
and then to affiffc a Friend. With this I live content, ar4
it is the very height of my Ambition. And then I have
taken care fo to execute my Office, to give more Reputes-'
,tion to my Office than I received from it ; this I accounc
to be more honourable, than to borrow my Dignity from
the Splendor of my Office. Eu. V/ithout all Controverfy.
Gl. By this Means I sm advanced in Years, and the Af-
fedions of my fellow Citizens. Eu. But that's one of the
difficulteft Things in the World, when with very good Rea-
son there is this old Saying : He thai has no 'Enemies has no Friejids^
and Envy is altuays fin Attendant on Felicity. Gl. Envy al ways ^
a Concomitant of a pompous Felicity, but a Mediocrity is
fafe j this was always my Study, not to make any Ad-
vantage to myfelf from the Difadvantages of other People.
I embraced as much as I could, that which the Greeks call
Freedom from the Encumbrance of Bufinefs. I intei med-
dled with no ones Affairs j but efpecially I kept myfelf clear
■ from thoie that could not be meddled with without gaining
the ill Will of a great many. If a Friend v^ants my Affi?
ftance, I fo ferve him, as thereby not to procure any Ene-
mies to myfelf. In cafe of any Aiifunderflanding between
tne and any Perfbns, I endeavour to fofren it by clearing
myfelf of Sufpiciont or to fet all right again by good OfKces,
or to let it die without taking Notice of it : I always avoid
Contention, but if it fliall happen, I had rather lofe mv Mo,
ney than my Friend. Upon the whole, I ad -the Part of
Mitio in the Comedy, I affront no Man, I carry a chcarful
Countenance to all, I falute and refalute gfiably, I find no
0.4 fault
[ 232 1
fault With what any Man purpofes to do Or does, I dofi*C
E refer myfelf before ocher People j I let every one enjoy
is Opinion i vhat I would have kept as a Secret, I tell to
no Body : I never am curious to pry into the Privacies of
ocher Men. If I happen to come to the Knowledge of any
thing, I never blab it. As for abfent Perfons, I either fay
nothing at all of them, or fpeak of them with Kindneis
and Civility. Great Part of the Quaruels that arife between
Men, come from the Intemperance of the Tongue. I
never breed Quarrels or heighten them j but where-ever
Opportunity happens, I either moderate them, or put an
End to them. By thefe Methods I have hitherto kept
clear of Envy, and have maintained the Affedions of my
fellow Citizens. Pamp. Did you not find a fingle Life
irkfome to you } Gl. Nothing happened to me in the whole
Courfe of my Life, more afflifting than the Death of my
Wife, and I could have paffionately widi'd that we might
have grown old together, and might have enjoy'd the Com-
fort of the common Blejfing, our Children ; But fince Pro-
vidence faw it meet it ihould be otherwife, I judged that it
was befl for us both, and therefore did not think there was
Caufe for me to afflidt myfelf with Grief, that would do
no good, neither to me nor the Deceafed. Vol. What,
liad you never an Inclination to marry again, efpecially the
firfl having been fo happy a Match to you } Gl. I had an
Inclination lb to do, hut as I married for the Sake of Chil-
dren, fo for the fake of my Children I did not marry a-
gahi. Pol. But 'tis a miferable Cafe to lie alone whole Nights
without a Bedfellow. Gl. Nothing is hard to a willing
Mind. And then do but confider the Benefits of a fingle
Life : There are feme People in the World, who will be
for making the worft of every Thing ; fuch a one Crates
feemed to be, or an Epigram under his Name, fumming
up the Evils of human Life. And the Relolution is this,
that it is beft not to be born at all. Now Netrodoras
plcafes me a great deal better, who picks out what is good
h. it; this makes Life the pleafamer. And I brought my
Mind to that Temper of Indijference never to have a violenif
Averfion or Fondnefs for any thing. And by this it comes
to pals, that if any good Fortune happens to me, I atn
•not vainly tranfported, or grow infolent ; or if any thing
falls our crofs, I am not much pcrplex'd. Vavip. Truly
if you can do this, you aae a greater Philofopher than
Tbales himfelf. Gl. If any Uneafinefs m my Mind riies,
( as mortal Life produces many of them ) I call it im-
mediately out of my Thoughts, whether it be from the
Scnlc
t ^33 ]
Senfc of an Affront offered, or any thing done unhand*
fomly. Pol. Well, bat there are feme Provocations
that would raife the Anger of the n-jft patient Man
alive : As the SaucinefTcs of Servants frequently are. Gl.
I fufFer nothing to flay long enough in my Mind to make
^n Imfrejjioft, If I can cure them I do it, if not, I rea-
fon thus with my felf. What good will it do me to tor-
ment my felf about that which will be never the better
^or it ? In fliort, I let Reafon do that for me at firfl, which
after a litde while. Time ;/ [elf would do. And this 1
belure take Care of, not to fufFer any Vexation, be ic
never fo great, to go to Bed with me. Eu. No wonder
that you don't grow old, who are of that Temper. G/.
Well, and that I mayn't conceal any thing from Friends,
in an efpecial Manner I have kept this Guard upon my
felf, never to commit any thing that might be a Refle-
ction either on my own Honour or that of my Children.
For there is nothing more troublefome than a guilty Con-
fcicnce. And if I have committed a Fault I don't go to
Bed before I have reconcil'd my felf to God. To be at
Peace with God is the Fountain of true Tranquillity of
Mind, or as the Greeks call it Iaj^(Aa. For they who live
thus. Men can do them no great Injury. Eu. Have you
never any anxious Thoughts upon the Apprebenfion of Death >
Gl. No more than I have for the Day of my Birth. I know
I muft die, and to live in the Fear of it may pofTibly
fliorten my Life, but to be fure it would never make it
longer. So that I care for nothing elfe but to live pioufly
and comfortably, and leave the reft to Providence; and s
Man can't live happily that does not live pioufly. Famp,
But I Ihould grow old with the Tirefomnefs of living fo
long in the fame Pla-ce, tho' it were T!.ome it felf. Gl.
The changing of Place has indeed fomething of Pleafure
in ir ; but then, as for long TravJs, tho' perhaps they may
add to a Man's Experience, yet they are liable to a greac
many Dangers. I feem to my felf to travel over the whole
World in a Map, and can fee more in Hiftories than if I
had rambled through Sea and Land for twenty Ye^rs to-
gether, as Uljjfes did. I have a little Country- Houfe about
two Miles out of Town, and there fometimes, of a Cici-
Zen I become a Country-Man, and having recreated my
felf- there, I return again to the City a new Comer, and
falute and am welcom'd as if I had return'd from the new-
found Illands. Eu. Don't you affift Nature with a lirde
Phylick ? Gl. I never wa^ let Blood, or took Pills nor Po-
tions in my Life yet. If 1 feel any Diforder coming upon
ma
[ ^34 1
me, I drive it away with fpare Diet or the Country
Air. Eu. Don't you iludy fometimes ? Gl. I do. In that
js the gj»eatefl; Pieafure of my Life : But I make a Diver ^^
lion of it, but not a Toil. I ftudy either for Pleafure or
Profit of my Life, but not for Ollentation. After Meat
I have a Collation of learned Stories, or elfe fomebody
to read to me^ and I never (it to my Books above an
Hour at a Time : Then I get up and take my Violin, and
walk about in my Chamber, and (ing to iti or elfe ru-
minate upon what I have read ; or if I have a good Com-*
panion with me, I relate it, and after a while 1 return to
jny Book again. Eu, But tell me mii)) upon the Word
of an honefr Man j Do you feel none of the Infirmities
of old Age, which are faid to be a great many ? Gl. My
Sleep is not fo found, nor my Memory fo good, unlefi
I fix any thing deeply in if Well, \ have mia acquitted
my ielf of my Promife. I have laid open to you thofe
magical Arts by which I have kept my felf young, and
now let Volyga-mm tell us fairly, how he brought old Age
upon him to that Degree. Po. Indeed, I will hide nothing
from fuch trufty Companions. Eu. You will tell it to thofe
that will not make a Difcourfe of it.
Volyg. You very well know I indulg'd my Appe-.
tite when I was at P<3inV, Eu. We remember it very well.
Put we thought that you had left your rakitjl> Manners and
your youthtul Way of ]L,iving at Varis. Vo, Of the many
IvIiftrelTes I had there I took one Home, who was big
with Child. Eu- What, into your Father's Houfe ? Vo. Di-
reilly thither \ but I pretended fhe was a Friend's Wife,
who was to come to her m a little Time. Gl. Did your
Father believe it ? Vo. He fmelt the Matter out in three
or four Days time^ and then there was a cruel
Scolding. Hov/ever, in this Interim I did not leave off
Fealling, Gaming, and other extravagant Diverfions. And
In Oiortj my Father continuing to rate me, faying he would
have no fuch cackling Go0ips under his Roof, and ever
and anon threatning to difcard me, I march'd off, remov'd
|o another PiaCe with my Pullet, and ^C:^ brought me fome
young Chickens, fam. Where had you Money ^11 the
m:M? ? Fo. My Mother gave me fome by Stealth,
5',nd I ran over Head and Ears in Debt. Eu. Had any Body
ib little Wit as to lend you ? fo. There arc fome Ferfons
who will truft no Body more readily tba7i tbey will a Spend-
thrift. Vamp. And whst next ? Vo. At lad my Father was
going about to difinherit me in good earneft. Some Friends
iaterpQs'dj a^id aiade up the Breach upon this Condition ;
thac
I ^^s 1
that I flioulcl renounce the French Woman, and marry one
of our own Country. Eu. Was (lie your Wife ? Pi?.
There had pad feme Words between us in the future
Tenfe, but there had been carnal Copulation in the pre-
fent Tenfe. Eu. How could you leave her then ? Fo. It
came to be known afterwards, that my French Woman
had a French Husband that fhe had elop'd from fome time
before Eu. But it feems you have a Wife now. Fo.
None'befides this which is my Eighth. Eu. The Eighth!
IVby then you were named Foljgamis by way of Prophecy.
Perhaps they all died without Children. Fo. Nay,
there was not one of them but left me a Litter, iiihich I
have at Home. Eu. 1 had rather have fo many Hens at
Home, which would lay me Eggs. An't you weary of
wifeinst^ Fo. I am fo weary .of it, that if this Eighth fhould
die to^bay, I would marry the Ninth to- Morrow. Nay, in
vexes me that I muft not have two or three, when ons
Cock has fo many Hens. Eu. Indeed I don't wonder,
Mr. Cock, that you are no fatter, and that you have brought:
old Age upon you to that Degree ; for nothing brings on
old Age fafter, than exceffive and hard Drinking, keeping
late Hours, and Whoring, extravagant Love of Women,
and immoderate Venery. But who maintains your Family
all this luhile? Fo. A fmall Eftate came to me by the
Death of my Father, and I work hard with my Hands. Eu.
Have you given over Study then? Fo. Altogether. I have
broucrht a Noble to Nine Pence, and of a Mafter of feven
Ans,^ I am become a "Workman of but one Arc. Eu.
Poor Man ! So many times you were obliged to be a
Mourner, and fo many times a V/idower. Fo. I never
lived fingie above ten Days, and the new Wife always put
an End to the Mourning for the old one. So, you have
in truth the Epitome of m.y Life j and I willi Pa-.npinn
would give us a Narration of his Life , he bears his Age
well enoutrh : For if I am not miftaken, he is two or three
Years old?r than I. Famp. Truly I'll tell it ye, if you are at
Leifure to hear fuch a Romance. Eu. Nay, it will be a
Pleafure to hear it. Pamp. When I went Home, my an-
cient Father began to prefs me earneftly to enter into fom.e
Courfe of Life! that might make fome Addition to what
I had j and after long Confultition Merchandizing was v/hat
I took to. Fo. I admire this Way of Life pieas'd you more
^han any other. Favt. I was naturally greedy to knew new
ThirKTS, to fee various Countries and Cities, to lea-n Lan-
gua<Tes, and the Cuftoms and Manners of Men, and Mer-
chandize feem'd the moft appofire to that Puipofe. From
which a general Knowledge of Things proceeds. P£>..But
a wretch-
« wretched one> which is often purchas'd with Inconve^
niencies. Tamp. It is fo, therefore ^y Father gave me z i
good large Stock, that I might begin tb trade upon a good '
Foundation : And at the fame tim-e I courted a Wife with
a good Fortune, but handfome enough to have gone ofif
without a Portion. Eu. Did you fucceed ? Tarn. No.
Before I came Home, 1 loll all. Stock and Block. Eu,
Perhaps by Shipwreck. Tam^. By Shipwreck indeed. For r
we run upon more dangerous Kocks than thofe of Scilly.
Eu. In what Sea did you happen to run upon that Rock ?
Or what is the Name of it } Tain. I can't tell what Sea .
'tis in, but it is a Rock that is infamous for the Deftruftioa i
of a great many, they call it Alea [Dice, the Devil's Bones]
in Latin, how you call it in Greek I can't tell. Eu. O
Fool ! Pam. Nay, my Father was a greater Fool, to
trufi: a young Fop with fuch a Sum of Money. Gl. And i
what did you do next ? Pam. Why nothing at all, but 1,1
began to think of hanging my felf Gl. Was your Fa--
ther fo implacable then ? For fuch a Lofs might be made !
up again ^ and an Allowance is always to be made to one that
makes the firft Eflay, and much more it ought to be to >
one that tries all Things. Tarn. Tho' what you fay may '
be true, I loft my Wife in the mean Time. For as foon i
as the Maid's Parents came to undcrlland what they muft ;
expect, they would have no more to do with me, and I
I was over head and Ears in Love. Gl. I pity thee. Bu:
what did you propofe to your felf after that ? Tarn. To do
£s it is ufual in defperate Cafes My Father had cafl me
of£ my Fortune was coniijm'd, my Wife was loft, I was
every where call'd a Sot, a Spendthrift, a Rake, and what
not ? Then I began to deliberate ferioufly with my felf, ,
whether I fhould hang my felf or no, or whether I fhould
throw my felf into a Monaftery. Eu. You were cruelly
put to it ! I know which you would chufe, the eafier
Way of Dying. Fatn. Nay, lick was I of Life it felf j
1 f>:tch''al upon that which feem'd to me the moft painful.
Gl. And jet many People caft themfelvcs into Moriafieriest .
that they may live more comfortably there. Tarn. I hav-
ing got together a little Money to bear my Charges, I
ilole out of my own Country. Gl. Whither did you go
ar iaft } Pam. Into Irelavdy there I became a (Canon) Re-
gular of that Order that v/ear Linnen outwards and Wool-
Icn next their Skin. Gl. Did you fpend your Winter in
IreUnd ? Pam. No. But by that time I had been among
!;hcm tv.'O Months I fail'd into Scotland. Gl. What dil-
jplcas'd you among them. Pam. Nothing, buUhat I thought
their
[ '-^1 ]
tliclr DifGipIine was not fevere enough for the Defcrts d(
one, that once Hanging was too good for. G/. Well,
wha't paft in Scotland ? Ta. Then 1 chang'd my Linnen
Habit for a Leathern one, among the Carthufians. Ear.
Thefe are the Men, that in Stridtnefs of Frofejjtm, are dead
to the World. Fa. It feem'd fo to me, when I heard them
Singing. Gl. What > Do dead Men fing ? But how many
Month^ did you fpend among the Scots ? Ta. Almoft fix-.
Gl. A wonderful Conftancy. £». What oflrended you
there ? Va. Becaufe it feem'd to me to be a lazy, deUcate
Sort of Life i and then I found there, many that were not
of a very found Brain, by Reafon of their Solitude. } had
but a httle Brain my felf, and I was afraid I fliould lofe ir
all. Vo. Whither did you take your next Flight > Fa. Into
Trance : There I found fome cloath'd all in Black, of the
Order of St. BenediB, who intimate by the Colour of their
Cloatlis, that they are Mourners in this World ; and among
thefe, there vjere fome, that for their upper Garment wore
Hair-Cloth Hke a Net. Gl. A grievous Mortification of the
Flefli i Fa. Here I ftay'd eleven Months. £». What was
the Matter chat you did not ftay there for good and all ?
Fa. Becaufe I found there were more Ceremonies than true
Piety : And befides, I heard that there were fome who were
much holier, which Bernani had enjoin'd a more fevere
Difcipline, the black Habit being chang^'d into a white one ;
with thefe I liv'd ten Months. Eu. What difgufted you
here ? Pa. I did not much difih any Thing, for I found
them very good Company ^ but the Grtek Proverb ran ia
my Mind 9
One muft either eat Snails, or eat nothing at all.
Therefore I came to a Refolution, either not to be a Monk,
or to be a Monk to Perfedtion. I had heard there were fome
of the Order of St. Bridget, that were really heavenly Men,
I betook my felf to thefe. Eu. How many Months did you
ftay there } Pa. Two Days ; but not quite that. Gl. Did
that kind of Life pleafe you no better than fo ? Pa. They
take no Body in, but thofe that will profefs themfelves pre^
fently ; but I was not yet come to that Pitch of Madnefs,
fo eafily to put my Neck into fuch a Halter, that I could
never get off again. And as often as 1 heard the Nuns fing-
ing, the Thoughts of my Miftrefs that I had loft, tormented
my Mind. Gl. Wtii, and what after this ? Fa. My Mind
■'■":"' was
C 23§ ]
was inflamed with the Love of Holinefs ; nor yet had I met
wiih any thing that could fatisfy ic. At laft:, as I was walk-
ing up and down, I fell in among fome Crofs- bearers. This
Badge pleas'd me at firft Sight j but the Variety hindered me
from chufing 'which to take to. Some carried a white Crofe
fome a red Crofs, fome a green Crofs, fome a party- colour'd
Crofs, fome a fingle Crofs, fome a double one, fome a qua-
druple, and others fome of one Form, and fome of another ;
and I, that I might leave nothing untry'd, I carried fome of
every Sort. But I found in reality, that there was a great
Difference between carrying a Crofs on a Gown or a Coat,
and carrying it in the Heart. At laft being tired v;ith En-
quiry, it came into my Mind, that to arrive at univerfal
Holinels all at once, I would take a Journey to the holy
Land, and fo would return Home with a Back-Load of
Sandimony. Vo. And did you go thither? Fa. Yes. To,
Where did you get Money to bear your Charges ? Ta.
I wonder ft never came into your Head, to ask that before
now, and not to have enquir'd after that a great while ago :
But you know the old Proverb j a Man of Art 'will li'ue
any 'where. Gl, What Art do you carry with you? Ta.
Palmiftry. Gl. Where did you learn it ? Ta. What figni-
fies that ? Gl. Who was your Mafter ? Ta. My Belly,
the great Mafter of all Arts : 1 foretold Things paft, prefent,
and to come. Gl. And did you know any Thing of the Mat-
ter ? Ta. Nothing at all ; but I made bold GuefTes, and
run no Rifque neither, having got my Money firil. To.
And was fo ridiculous an Art fufficient to maintain you ?
Ta. It was, and two Servants too : There is every where
fuch a Nunaber of foolifh you7ig Fellows and Wenches.
However, when I came to Jerufalem, I put my felf into
the Train of a rich Nobleman, who being feventy Years of
Age, faid he could never have died in Peace, unlefs he had
firft vifited Jerufalem. Eu. What, did he leave a Wife at.
Home? Ta. Yes, and fix Children. Eu. O impious, pious,
i.)ld Man! Well, and did you come back holy from thence ?
Ta. Shall I tell you the Truth ? Somewhat worfe than I
went. Eu. So, as I hear, your Religion was grown cool.
Ta. Nay, it grew more hot : So I went back into Italy,
and enter'd into the Army. Eu. What, then, did you look
for Religion in the Camp ? Than v/hich, what is there,
that there can be more impious. Ta. It was a holy War.
jE». Perhaps againft the Turks. Ta. Nay, more holy than
that, as they indeed gave out at that Time. Eu. What was
that ? Ta. Pope Julius the Second made War upon the
Erench. And the Experience of many Things that it gives
a Maih
t n9 ]
x Man, made tne fancy a Soldier's Life. ^n. Of many
Things indeed J but wicked ones. P<r. So I found after-*
Wards : But howeverj 1 liv'd harder here^ than I did in
the Monafteries. Eu. And what did you do after this? Fa,
Now my Mind began to be wavering, whether I fhould re*
turn to my Bufinefs of a Merchantj that I had laid afide-, of
prefs forward in purfuic of Religion that fled before me. In
the mean Time it came into my Mind, that I might felloe
both together. Va. What, be a Merchant and a Monk both
together ? Ta. Why not ? There is nothing more religious
than the Order of Mendicants, and there is tiothing more
like to Trading. They fly over Sea and Land, they fee
many Things, they hear many Things, they enter into the
Houfes of common People, Noblemen, and Kings. 'Eu,
Ay, but they don't trade for Gain, Va. Very often, with
better Succefs than we do. Eu. Which of thefe Orders did
you make Choice of.? Ta. I try'd them all. Eu. Did none
of them pleafe you } Fa. 1 lik'd them all well enough*
if I might but prefently have gone to Trading j but I con-
fider'd in my Mind, I muft labour a long Time in the
Choir, before I could be qualified for the Truft : So now I
began to think hov/ I might get to be made an Abbot; But*
1 thought ivith my felf, Kifling goes by Favour, and it will
be a tedious Purfuit : So having fpent eight Years after this
Manner, hearing of my Father's Death, I returu'd Home,
and by my Mother's Advice, I marry'd, and betook my felf to
my old Bufmefs of Traffick. Gl. Prithee tell me, when you
chang'd your Habit fo often, and were transform'd, as it
were, into another Sort of Creature, how could you be-
have your felf nvith a proper Decorum ? Pa. Why not, as
well as thofs who in the fame Comedy adt feveral Parts ?
Eu. Tell us now in good earneft, you that have try'd eve-
ry Sort of Life, which you raoft approve of Pa. So many
Men, fo many Minds : I like none better than this which
I follow. .Eu. But there are a great many Inconveniences
attend it. Pa. There are fo. But feeing there is no State of
Life, that is entirely free from Incommodities, this being
my Lot, I make the beft on't : But now here is Eufebhis
ftill, I hope he will not think much to acquaint his Frierids
with fome Scenes of his Courje of Life. Eu. Nay, with
the whole Play of it, if you pleafe to hear it, for it does not
confift of many Ads. Gl. It will be a very great Favour,'
Eu. When I return'd to my own Country, I took a
Year to deliberate what Way of Living to chufe, and ck':>
min'd my felf, to what Employment my Inclination led mc,
and I was fie for. In the meaa Time a Prebendary was
of-
. [ 240 ]
freed me, as they call it ; it was a good fat Benefice, and I
accepted it. Gl. That Sort of Life has no good Reputation
amoTig People. Eu. As human Affairs go, I thought it was
a Thing well worth the accepting. Do you look upon ic
a fmall Happinefs to have fo many Advantages to fall into
a Man's Mouth, as tho' they dropt out of Heaven ; hand'
fome Houfes well furnifli'd, a large Revenue, an honourable
Society, and a Church at Hand, to ferve God in, when you
have a Mind to it ? Ta. I was fcandaliz'd at the Luxury
of the Perfons and the Infamy of their Concubines ^ and be-
caufe a great many of that Sort of Men have an Averfion
to Learning. Eu. I don't mind what others do, but what I
ought to do my felf, and aflbciate my felf with the better"
Sort, if I cannot make them that are bad better. Fo. And
is that the State of Life you have always liv'd in ? Eu. Always,
except four Years, that I liv'd at Padua. Pa. What did
you do there ? Eu. Thefe Tears I divided in this Manner j
i ftudied PhyGck a Year and a half, and the reft of the Time
Divinity. Po. W hy fo ? Eu. That I might the better
manage both Soul and Body, and alfo fometimes be helpful
by Way of Advice to my Friends. I preached fometimes
{upn Occajton) according to my Talent. And under thef«
Circumftances, I have led a very quiet Life, being content
with a fingle Benefice, not being ambitioufly defirous of any
more, and (hould have refus'd it, if it had been offered me.
?a. I wifh we could learn how the reft of our old Compa-j
nions have liv'd, that were our Familiars. Eu. I can tellj
you fomewhat of fome of them : but I fee we are not far
from the City ; therefore, if you are willing, we will all
take up the fame Inn, and there we will talk over the reft
at Leifure. Hugh, [a JVafgoner.'] You blinking Fellow,
where did you take up this Kubbiih .^ Harry the Waggoner.
Where are you carrying that Harlotrry, you Pimp } Hugh,
You ought to t'irow theie frigid old Fellows fomewhere into
a Bed of Nettles, to make them grow warm again. Harry.
Do you fee that you fhoot that Herd of yours fomewhere
into a Pond to cool them, to lay their Concufifcence , for they
are too hot. Hugh, lam not us'd to overturn my Pafiengers.
Harry. No ^ but I faw you a little while ago, overturn halt
a Doxen Carthufians into the Mire, fo that tho' thej nuent in
white, they came out black, and you ftood grinning at it,
as if you had done fome noble Exploit. Harry. I was in
the right of it, they were all afleep, and added a ^<?<7rf Weight
to my Waggon. Harry. But thcfe old Genilemen, by talk-
ing merrily all the Way, have made my Waggon go light.
. I ncvec
[ 241 ]
I never had a better Fare. Hugh. But you don't ufe to like
fuch Paffengers. Harry. But thefe are good old Men.
Hugh. How do you know that ? Harry. Becaufe they
made me drink humming Ale, three Times by the Way.
Hugh. Ha, ha, ha, then they are good to you.
The FrancifcanSy riza ;^^7r ^i^tnoi, or rich Beggars.
The Argument.
'^s Francifcans, or rich poor Perfons^ are not admitted
into the Houfe of a Country Par/on. Pandocheus
jokes wittily upon them. 'The Habit is not to be
accounted odious. The Life and Death of the Fran-
cifcans. Of the fooliflj Pomp of Plabits. The Ha-
bits of Monks are not in themfehes evil. UHoat Sort
of Perfons Monks ought to be. The Ufe of Garments
is for Neceffty and Decency. What Decency is.
Whence arofe the Variety of Habits and Garments
among the Monks. That there was in old Time
no Superfition in the Habits.
CONRAD E, a Bernardine Monk, a Paafon, jtn
Innkeeper and his Wife.
/^ON. Hofpitality becomes a Paftor. P^/?. But I am a
^ Paftor of Sheep ; I don't love Wolves. Con. But per-
haps you don't hate a Wench fo much. But what harm have
ijje done you, that you have fuch an Averfion to us, that you
won't fo much as admit us under your Roof? We won't
put you to the Charge of a Supper. Faji. I'll tell ye, be-
caufe if you fpy but a Hen or a Chicken in a Body's Houfe,
I fhould be fure to hear of it to- Morrow in the Pulpit.
This is the Gratitude you fhew for your being entertain'd.
Con. We are not all fuch Blabs. Pafi. Well, be what you
will, I'd fcarce put Confidence in St. Teter himfelf, if he
came to me in fuch a Habit. Con. If that be your Refolu-
rion, at leaft tell us where is an Inn. Tafi. There's a publick
Inn here in theTovv'n. Con. What Sign has it ? Fafi. Upon
§ Board that hangs up, you will fee a Dog thrufting his Head
R inc»
into a Porridge-Pot i This is adted to the Life id the Kitchen ^
and a Wolf lies at the Bar. Con. That's an unlucky Sign,
Fafi. You may e'en make your beft on't. Co7z. What Sore
of a Paftor is this ^ we might be ftarv'd for him. Ber. If
he feeds his Sheep no better than he feeds us, they muft needs
be very lean. Ber. In a difficult Cafe, we had need of good
Counfel : What fliall we do ? Con. We muft fet a good
Face on't. Ber. There's little to be gotten by Modefty,
in a Cafe of Neceffity. Con. Very right, St. Francis will be
with us. Ber. Let's try our Fortune then. Con. We won't
flay for our Hoft's Anfwer at the Door, but we'll rufli di-
rectly into the Stove, and we won't eafily be gotten out
again. Ber. O impudent Trick ! Con. This is better than
to lie abroad all Night, and be frozen to Death. In the
mean Time, put Baflifulnefs in your Wallet to Day, and
take it out again To-morrow. Ber. Indeed, the Matter
requires it. Ink. What fort of Animals do I fee here ?
Con. We are the Servants of God, and the Sons of St. Fran-
CIS, good Man. Ink. I don't know what Delight God may
take in fuch Servants j but I would not have many of them
in my Houfe. Con. Why fo ? Ink. Becaufe at Eating and
Drinking, you are more than Men j but you have neither
Hands nor Feet to work. Ha, ha ! You Sons of St. Francis,
you ufe to tell us in the Pulpit, that he was a pure Barchelor,
and has he got fo many Sons ? Con. We are the Children
of the Spirit, not of the Flefli. Ink. A very unhappy Fa-
ther, for your Mind is the worft Part about you ; but your
Bodies are too lufty, and as to that Part of you, it is better
with you, than 'cis for our Intereft, who have Wives and
Daughters. Con. Perhaps you fufped that we are fome of
thofe that degenerate from the Inftitations of our Founder j
we are ftrid Obfervers of them. Ink. And I'll obferve you
too, that you don't do me any Damage, for I have a mor-
tal Averfion for this Sort of Cattle. Con. Why fo, I pray ?
Ink. Becaufe you carry Teeth in your Head, but no Money
in your Pocket ^ and fuch fort of Guefts are very unwel-
come to me. Con. But we take Pains for you. Ink. Shall
I fhew you after what Manner you labour for me. Con. Do,
fliew us. Ink. Look upon that Picture there, juft by you,
on your left Hand, there you'll fee a Wolf a Preaching, and
behind him a Goofe, thrufting her Head out of a Cowl :
There again, you'll fee a Wolf abfolving one at Confeffion j
but a Piece of a Sheep, hid under his Gown, hangs out.
There you fee an Ape in a FrancifcarJ's Habit, he holds
forth a Crofs in one Hand, and has the other Hand in the
iick Man's Purfe. Con. We don't deny, but fometimes
Wolves,
LM3 ]
Wolves, Foxes and Apes are cloathed with this Hablti
nay we confefs oftentimes that Swine, Dogs, Horfes, Lions
and Bafilisks are conceal'd under it j but then the fame
Garment covers many honefl: Men. As a Garment makes
no Body better, fo it makes no Body worfe. It is unjuft
to judge of a Man by his Cloaths ; for if fo, the Garment
that you wear fometimes were to be accounted deteftable,
becaufe it covers many Thieves, Murderers, Conjurers, and
Whoremafters. Ink. Wei!, I'll difpenfe with your Habit,
if you'll but pay your Reckonings. Con. We'll pray to
God for you. Ink. And I'll pray to God for you, and
there's one for t'other. Con. But there are fome Pe'rfons that
you muft not take Money of. Ink. How comes it that
you make a Confcience of touching any. Con. Becaufe ic
does not confift with our Profeffion. Ink. Nor does it
ftand with my Profeffion to entertain Guefts for nothing.
Con. But we are tied up by a Rule not to touch Money,
Ink. And my Rule commands me quite the contrary. Con,
What Rule is yours ? Ink. Read thofe Verfes :
Guefis at this Table, luhen you^ve eat while you're abk.
Rife not hence before, you have fir [t paid your Score.
Con. We'll be n© Charge to you. Ink. But they that are no
Charge to me are no Profit to me neither. Con. If you do
us any good Office here, God will make it up to you fuffi-
ciendy. Ink. But thefe Words won't keep my Family. Con^
We'll hide our felves in fome Corner of the Stove, and
won't be troublefome to any Body. Ink. My Stove won't
hold fuch Company. Con. What, will you thrufb us ouE
of Doors then. Ic may be we (hall be devour'd by Wolves
to Night. Ink. Neither Wolves nor Hogs will prey up-
on their own kind. Con. If you do fo you will be more
cruel than the Turks. Let us be what we will, we are Men.
Ink. I have loft my Hearing. Con. You indulge your Corps*
and lye naked in a warm Bed behind the Stove, and will you
thruft us out of Doors to be periffi'd with Cold, if the
Wolves fhould not devour us ? Ink. Adam liv'd fo in
Paradife. Con. He did fo, but then he was innocent.
Ink. And fo am I innocent. Con. Perhaps fo, leaving
out the firft Syllable. But take Care, if you thruft
us out of your Paradife, left God fhould not receive
you into his. Ink. Good Words, I befeech you. Wife.
Prithee, my Dear, make fome Amends for all your ill
Deeds by this fmall Kindnefs, let them ftay in our Houfe
to Night : They are good Men, and thou'k thrive i\\z better
R 2 for't.
[ 244 ]
for't. Ink. Here's a Reconciler for you. I'm afraid you're
agreed upon the Matter. I don't very well like to hear this
good Charadler from a Woman j Good 'Men. Wife. Phoo,
there's nothing in it. But think with your felt how often
you have offended God with Dicing, Drinking, Brawling,
QuarreUing. At leaft, make an Atonement for your Sins by
this KGi of CharitVj and don't thruft thefe Men out of
Doors, whom you would willi to be with you when you
are upon your Death-bed. You oftentimes harbour Rattles
and Buffoons, and will you thrufl thefe Men out of Doors ?
Ink. What does this Petticoat- Preacher do here, get you in,
and mind your Kitchen ? Wife. Well, To I will. Bert. The
Man foftens methinks, and he is taking his Shirt, I hope all
will be well by and by. Con. And the Servants are laying
the Cloth. It is happy for us that no Guefts come, for we
jfiiould have been fent packing if they had. Bert. It fell out
very happily that we brought a Flaggon of Wine from the
laft Town we were ata and a roafled Leg of Lamb, or elfe,
for what I fee here, he would not have given us fo much as
a Mouthful of Hay. Con. Now the Servants are fet down,
let's take part of the Table with them, but fo that we don't
incommode any Body. Ink. I believe I may put it to your
Score, that I have not a Guefl to Day, nor any befides my
own Family, and you good-for-nothing ones. Con. Well,
put it to our Score, if it has not happened to you often.
Ink. Oftner than I would have it fo. Con. Well, don't be
uneafy j Chrift lives, and he'll never forfake his Servants, hzk.
I have heard you are call'd evangelical Men j but the Gcfpel
forbids carrying about Satchels and Biead, but I fee you have
great Sleeves for Wallets, and you don't only carry Bread,
but Wine too, and Flefli alfo, and that of the bcft fort. Caw.
Take part with us, if you pleafe. Ink. My Wine is Hog-
Waih to it. Con. Eat fome of the Flclli, there is more than
enough for us. Ink. O happy Beggars ! My Wife has drefs'd
nothing to Day, but Coleworts and a little rufty Bacon. Con.
If you pleafe, let us join our Stocks j it is all one to us what we
eat. Ink. Then v/hy don't you carry with you Coleworts
and dead Wine ? Con. Becaufe the People where we din'd
to Day would needs force this upon us. Ink. Did your Din-
ner coft you nothing ? Con. No. Nay they thanked us, and
when we came away gave us thefe Things to carry along with us.
I7ik. From whence did you come? Con. From Bajll. Ink.
Whoo ! what fo far ? Con. Yes. Ink. What fort of Fellows
are you that ramble about thus without Hories, Money, Ser-
vants, Arms, or Provifions .? Con. You fee in us fome Foot-
fteps of the evangelical Life. Ink. It feems to n:e to be
the I
C ^4i ]
the Life of Vagabonds, that ftroll about with Budget^.
Con. Such Vagabonds the Apoftles werC:, and fuch was the
Lord Jefus himfelf. Innk. Can you tell Fortunes ? Con.
Nothing leG. Innk. How do you live then ? Con. By him,
who hath promifed. Innk. Who is he ? Con, He that faid.
Take no Cafe, hut allThingsJJjaU be added unto you. Innk. He
did fo promife, but it was to tketn that feek the Kingdom
of God. Con. That we do with all our Might. In7ik. The
Apoftles were famous for Miracles ^ they heal'd the Sick,
fo that it is no Wonder how they liv'd every where, but
you can do no fuch Thing: Con. We could, if we were
like the Apoftles, and if the Matter requir'd a Miracle. But
Miracles were only given for a Time for the Convi&ion of
the Unbelieving j there is no Need of any Thing now,
but a religious Life. And it is oftentimes a greater Happinefs
to befick than to be well, and more happy to die than to live.
hmk. What do you do then ? Con. That we can j every Man
according to the Talent tliat God has given him. We com-
fort, we exhort, we warn, we reprove, and when Opportu-
nity offers, fometiraes we preach, if we any where find Pa-
ftors that are dumb : And if we find no Opportunity of doing
Good, we take Care to do no Body any Harm., either by
our Manners or our Words, hmk. I willv you would
preach for us to Morrovi', for it is a Holy-Day. Con.
To St. Antony. He v^as indeed a good Man. But how
came he to have a Holiday ? Innk. I'll tell you. This Town
abounds with Swineherds, by Reafon of a large Wood hard
by that produces Plenty of Acorns ^ and the People have an
Opinion that St. ^;/j'o?;>' takes Charge of the Hogs, and there-
fore they worftiip him, for fear he Hiould grow angry, if
they neglect him. Con. I wifli they v/ould vvorfhip him as
they ought to do. Innk. How's that? Con. Whofoever imi-
tates the Saints in their Lives, worfliips as he ought to do.
Innk. To-morrow the Town will ring again with Drinking
and Dancing, Playing, Scolding and Boxing. Con. After this
Manner the Heathens once woriliipped their Bacchus. But I
wonder, if this is their Way of worshipping, that St. Antony
is not enraged at this fort of Men that are more ftupid than
Hogs themfelves. V/hat fort of a Pailior have you ? A
dumb one, or a wicked one ? Innk. What he is to other
People, I don't know : But he's a very good one to
me, for be drinks all Day at my Houfe, and no Body
brings more Cuftomers or better, to my great Ad'-anta9;e.
And I wonder he is not here now. Con. We have found
by Experience he is not a very good one for our Turn>
Innk. What ! Did you go to him then ? Con, V/e intreated
R 3 him
[ ^4^ ]
him to let us lodge with him, but he chas'd us away from
the Door, as if we had been Wolves, and fent us hi-
ther. hink. Ha, ha. Now I underftand the Matter, he would
not come becaufe he knew you were to be here. Con.
Is he a dumb one ? hmk. A damb one ! There's no Bo-
dy is more noify in the Stove, and he makes the Church
rino- again. But I never heard him preach. But no Need
of more Words. As far as I underftand, he has made you
feniible that he is none of the dumb Ones. Con. Is he a
learned Divine ? Imtk. He fays he is a very great Scholar j
but what he knows is what he has learned in private
Confeflion, and therefore it is not lawful to let others know
what he knows. What need many Words? I'll tell you i
in fhort \ like People, like Prieft ^ and the Difh, as we fay, *
wears irs own Cover. Co7t. It may be he will not give a
Man Liberty to preach in his Place. Innk. Yes, I'll under-
take he will, but upon this Condition, that you don't have
any Flirts at him, as it is a common Practice for you to do.
Con. They have us'd themfelves to an ill Cuftom that do
£o. If a Paftor offends in any Thing, I admonifh him
privately, the reft is the Bifhop's Bufmefs. Innk. Such Birds
feldom fly hither. Indeed you feem to be good Men
your felves. But, pray, what's the Meaning of this Variety
of Habits ? For a great many People take you to be ill \
Men by your Drefs. Con. Why fo ? hmk. I can't tel!, '
except it be that they find a great many of you to be fo.
Con. And many again take us to be holy Men, becaufe we
wear this Habit. They are both in an Error : But they err
lefs that take us to be good Men by our Habit, than they
that take us for bafe Men. Innk. Well, fo let it be. But
what is the Advantage of fo many different Dreffes ? Con.
What is your Opinion ? Innk. Why I fee no Advantage
at all, except in Proceflions, or War. For in Proceftions
there are carried about various Reprefentations of Saints, ,
of Jews, and Heathens, and we know which is which, by
the different Habits. And in War the Variety of Drefs is
good, that every one may know his own Company, and
follow his own Colours, fo that there may be no Confufion
in the Army. Con. You fay very well : This is a military
Garment, one of us follows one Leader, and another ano-
ther j but we all fight under one General, Chrift. But
in a Garment there are three Things to be confider'd.
Innk. What are they ? Con. Neceftity, Ufe, and De-
cency. Why do we eat ? Innk. That we mayn't be ftarv'd
with Hunger. Con. And for the very fame Reafon we take
a Garment that we mayn't be ftarv'd with Cold. hmk. I
confefs
[ M7 ]
confels it. Con. This Garment of mine is better for that than
yours. It covers the Head, Neck, and Shoulders, from whence
there is the moft Danger, Ufe requires various Sorts of
Garments. A fliort Coat for a Horfeman, a long one
for one that fits ftill, a thin one in Summer, a thick one in
Winter. There are feme at Home, that change their Cloaths
three times a Day ; in the Morning they take a Coat hn'd
with Fur, about Noon they take a fingle one, and to-
wards Night one that is a httle thicker j but every one
is not furnifh'd with this Variety ; therefore this Garment
of ours is contriv'd fo, that this one will ferve for vari-
ous Ufes. Innk. How is that } Con. If the North Wind
blow, or the Sun fhines hot, we put on our Cowl ; if
the Heat is troublefome, we let it down behind. If we
are to fit ftill, we let down our Garment about our Heels,
if we are to walk, we hold or tuck it up. Imik. He v/as
no Fool, whofoever he was, that contriv'd it. Con. And
it is the chief Thing in living happily, for a Man to ac-
cuftom himfelf to be content with a few Things : For if
once we begin to indulge our felves with Delicacies and
Senfualities, there will be no End j and there is no one
Garment could be invented, that could anfwer fo many
Purpofes. hink. I allow that. Con. Now let us confider
the Decency of it : Pray tell me honefliy, if you fhouid
put on your Wiie's Cloaths, would not every one fay that
you a6ted indecently ? Innk. They would fay I was mad.
Con. And what would you fay, if fhe fhouid put on your
Cloaths? Innk. Ifiiould not fay miUch perhaps, but I fhouid
cudgel her handfomly. Con. But then, how does it fig-
nify nothing what Garment any one wears ? Innk. O yes,
in this Cafe it is very material. Con. Nor is that ftrange j
for the Laws of the very Pagans inflidt a Punifnmenc on
either Man or Woman, that fhall v/ear the Cloaths of a
different Sex. Innk. And they are in the Right for it.
Con. But, come on. What if an old Man of Fourfcore
fliould drefs himfelf like a Boy of Fifteen ^ or if a young
Man drefs himfelf like an "old Man, would not every one
fay he ought to be b ing'd for it ? Or if an old Woman
fiiould attire her felf like a young Girl, and the contrary ?
Innk. No doubt. Con. In like Manner, if a Lay-Man
ihould wear a Priefl:'s Habit, and a Prieft a Lay-Man's.
Innk. They would both adt unbecomingly. Con. What if a
private Man fhouid put on the Habit of a Prince, or an in-
ferior Clergy-Man that of a Bifhop } Would he a6t unhand-
fomely or no > I«»/^. Certainly he would. Con. What if a
Citizen fhouid drefs himfelf like a Soldier, with a Feather in
R 4 his
[ MS ]
his Cap, and other Accoutrements of a hedoring Soldier ?
hink. He would be laugh'd at. Con. What if any Eng-
li/b Enfign fliould carry a white Crofs in his Colours, a
S'wifs a red one, a FreTich Man a black one ? Innk. He
would act imprudently. Con. Why then do you wonder fo
.much at our Habit ? Innk. I know the Difference between
a private Man and a Prince, between a Man and a Wo-
man ; but I don't underftand the Difference between a
3Io7ik and ?/<? Monk. Con. What Difference is there be-
tween a poor Man and a rich Man ? Innk. Fortune. Con.
And yet it would be unbecoming a poor Man to imitate a
rich Man in his Drefs. Innk. Very true, as rich Men go
now a-Days. Con. What Difference is there between a
Fool and a wile Man ? In?!k. Something more than there
is between a rich Man and a poor Man. Con. Are not
Fools drefs'd up in a different Manner from wife Men ?
Imk. I can't tell how well it becomes you, but your Habic
does not differ much from theirs, if it had but Ears and Bells.
Con. Thefe indeed are wanting, and we are the Fools of
this World, if we really are what we pretend to be. Innk.
What you arc I don't know ; but this I know that-, there
are a great many Fools that wear Ears and Bells, that have
more Wit than thofe that wear Caps iin'd with Furs,
Hoods, and other Enfigns of wife Men ; therefore it feems
a ridiculous Thing to me to make a Shew of Wifdom by
the Drefs rather than in Fad. 1 faw a certain Man, more
than a Fool, with a Gown hanging down to his Heels, a
Cap Uke our Doctors, and had the Countenance of a grave
Divine ; he difputed publickly with a Shew of Gravity, and
he was as much made on by great Men, as any of their
Fools, and was more a Fool than any of them. Con. Well,
what would you infer from that ? That a Prince who
laughs at his Jefter (hould change Coats with him .^ Innk. Per-
haps Decorum would require it to be fo, if your Propoli-
tion be true, that the Mind of a Man is reprefented by his
Habit. ^ ^
Con. You prefs this upon me indeed, but I am ftill of
the Opinion, that there is good Reafon for giving Fools
diftind Habits. Innk. What Reafon ? Con. That no Body
might hurt them, if they fay or do any Thing that's foolifli.
Innk. But on the contrary, I won't fay, that their Drefs
does rather provoke fome People to do them Hurt; infomuch,
that oftentimes of Fools they become Mad-men. Nor do
I fee any Reefon, ^hy a Bull that gores a Man, or a
Dog, or a Hog that kills a Child, fhould be punilh'd, and
a Fool who commits greater Crimes fliould be fuffered to
live
live under the Protedion of his Folly, But I ask you,
what is the Reafon that you are diftinguifhed from others
by your Drefs ? For if every trifling Caufe is fufficient to
require a different Habit, then a Baker fliould wear a diffe-
rent Drefs from aFifherman, and a Shoemaker from a Tay-
lor, an Apothecary from a Vintner, a Coachman from a
Mariner. And you, if you are Priefts, why do you wear
a Habit different from other Priefts ? If you are Laymen,
why do you differ from us ? Con. In antient Times, Monks
were only the purer Sort of the Laity, and there was then
only the fame Difference between a Monk and a Layman,
as between a frugal, honeft Man, that maintains his Fa-
mily by his Induftry, and a fwaggering Highwayman that
lives by Robbing. Afterwards the Bifhop of V.ome beftow'd
Honours upon us j and we our felves gave fome Reputation
to the Habit, which now is neither fimply kick, or facer-
dotal j but fuch as it is, fome Cardinals and Popes have not
jjeen afhamed to wear it. Jnnk. But as to the Decorum of
it, whence comes that ? Con. Sometimes from the Nature
of Things themfelves, and fometimes from Cuftom and the
Opinions of Men. Would not all Men think it ridiculous
for a Man to wear a Bull's Hide, with the Horns on his
Head, and the Tail trailing after him on the Ground ? Innk.
That would be ridiculous enough. Con. Again, if any one
(liould wear a Garment that fhould hide his Face, and his Hands,
and fhew his privy Members ? Innk. That would be more
ridiculous than the other. Con. The very Pagan Writers
have taken Notice of them that have wore Cloaths fo thin,
that it were indecent even for Women themfelves to y/ear
fuch.
It is more modeft to be naked, as we found you in the
Stove, than to wear a tranfparent Garment. Innk. I fancy
that the whole of this Matter of Apparel, depends upon
Cuftom and the Opinion of People. Con. Why fo ? In7ik.
It is not many Days ago, fince fome Travellers lodg'd
at my Houfe, who faid, that they had travelled through
divers Countries lately difcovered, which are wanting in
the antient Maps. i;hey faid they came to an Ifland of
a very temperate Air, where they look'd upon it as the
greateft Indecency m the World to cover their Bodies.
Con. It may be they Wd. like Beafts. Innk. Nay, tlT£y faid
they liv'd a Life of great Humanity, they liv'd under a
King, they attended him to Work every Morning daily,
but not above an Hour in a Day. Con. What Work did
they do ? In-ak. They pluck'd up a certain Sort of Roots
that isrves them inftcad of Bread, and \^ piore plcfifant and
more
,[ ^S9 1
more wholfome than Bread ; and when this was done^ they
every one went to his Bufmefs, what he had a Mind to do.
They bring up their Children religioufly, they avoid and
puniih Vices, but none more feverely than Adultery, Con.
What's the Punishment ? Innk. They forgive the Women,
for it is permitted to that Sex. But for Men that are ta-
ken in Adultery, this is the Punifliment, that all his Life
after, he ftiould appear in publick with his privy Parts co-
vered. Con. A mighty Punifliment indeed ! I?mk. Cuftorn
has made it to them the very greateft Punifliment that is.
C(?». When I confider the Force of Perfuafion, I am almoft
ready to allow it. For if a Man would expofe a Thief
or a Murderer to the greateft Ignominy, would it not be
a fufficient Punifliment to cut off a Piece of the hinder
Part of his Cloaths, and fow a Piece of a Wolfs Skin up-
on his Buttocks, to make him wear a parcy-colour'd Pair
of Stockings, and to cut the fore-part of his Doublet in the
Fafliion of a Net, leaving his Shoulders and his Breaft bare ;
to fliave ofF one Side of his Beard, and leave the other
hanging down, and curl one Part of it, and to put him a
Cap on his Head, cut and flafli'd, with a huge Plume of
Feathers, and fo expofe him publickly j would not this
make him more ridiculous than to put him on a Fool's
Cap with long Ears and Bells ? And yet Soldiers drefs
themfelves every Day in this Trim, and are well enough
pleafed with themfelves, and find Fools enough, that like
the Drefs too, though there is nothing more ridiculous.
Innk. Nay, there are topping Citizens too, who imitate
them as much as they can poffibly. Con. But now if a Man
fhould drefs himfelf up with Birds Feathers like zwhidian,
would not the very Boys, all of them, think he was a Mad-
man ? Innk. Stark m.ad. Con. And yet, that which we ad-
mire, favours of a greater Madnefs ftill : Now as it is true,
that nothing is fo ridiculous but Cuftom will bear it out ; fo
it cannot be denied, but that there is a certain Decorum in
Garments, which all wife Men always account a De<:(7r«;z«j and
that there is alfo an Unbecomingnefs in Garments, which
will to wife Men always feem unbecoming. Who docs not
laugh, when he fees a Woman dragging a long Train at her
Heels, as if her Quality were to be meafured by the Length
of her Tail ? And yet fome Cardinals are not afham'd to
follow this Fafliion in their Gowns : And fo prevalent a
Thing is Cuftom, that there is no altering of a Fafliion that
has once obtain'd. J^^^- Well, we have had Talk enough
about Cuftom : But tdTme now, whether you think it b^
ter for Monks to diflFer from others in Habit, or not to dif-
fer ? Con. I think it to be more agreeable to Chnftian Sim-
plicity,
L 2ii ]
pUcltyj not to judge of any Man by his Habit, if it be but
fober and decent- Innk. Why don't you caft away your
Cowls then ? Co7i. Why did not the Apoftles prefently eat
of all Sorts of Meat ? Innk. I can't tell. Do you tell rce
that. Co7z. Becaufe an invincible Cuftom hinder'd it : For
whatfoever is deeply rooted in the Minds of Men, and has
been confirm'd by long Ufe, and is turn'd as it were into
Nature, can never be remov'd on a fudden, without endan-
gering the publick Peace j but rauft be remov'd by De-
grees, as a Horfe's Tail is pluck'd off by fmgle Hairs. Innk.
I could bear well enough with it, if the Monks had all but
one Habit : But who can bear fo many different Habits ?
Con. Cuftom has brought in this Evil, which brings in every
Thing. Be7tedi£i did not invent a new Habit, but the fame
that he wore himfelf and his Difciples, which was the Habit
of a plain, honeft Layman : Neither did Francis invent a
new Drefs ; but it was the Drefs of poor Country-Fel-
lows. Their SuccelTors have by new Additions turned it into
Superftition. Don't we fee fome old Women at this Day,
that keep to the Drefs of their Times, which is more diffe-
rent from the Drefs now in Fafhion, than my Drefs is from
yours ? hmk. We do fee it. Con. Therefore, when you fee
this Habit, you fee only the Reliques of antient Times.
Innk. Why then, has your Garment no Holinefs in it } Con.
None at all. Innk. There are fome of you that make their
Boafts that thefe Drcffes were divinely directed by the holy
Virgin Mother. Con. Thefe Stories are but meer Dreams.'
Innk. Some defpair of being able to recover from a Fit of
Sicknefs, unlefs they be wrapp'd up in a Dominican's Habit :
Nay, nor won't be buried but in a Francifcan's Habir.
Con. They that perfuade People of thofe Things, are either
Cheats or Fools, and they that believe them are fuperftitious.
God will know a wicked Man as well in a Francifcan"s Ha-
bit, as in a Soldier's Coat. Innk. There is not fo much
Variety in the Feathers of Birds of the Air, as there is in
your Habits. Con. V/hat then, is it not a very good Thing
to imitate Nature ? But it is a better Thing to out-do it.
Innk. I wi(h you would out-do it in the Variety of your
Beaks too. Con. But, come on. I will be an Advocate for
Variety, if you will give me Leave. Is not a Spaniard dref-
fed after one Fafhion, an Italian after another, a Frenchjnan
after another, a German after another, a Greek after another,
a Turk after another, and a Sarazen after another ? Innk.
Yes. Con. And then in the fame Country, what Variety of
Garments is there in Perfons of the fame Sex, Age and De-
gree. How different is the Drefs of the Venetian from the
Florentine 3 and of both from the Roman, and this only within
Italj
[ ^52 ]
Italy alone ? Innk. I believe it. Con. And from hence
alfo came our Variety. Dominic he took his Drefs from the
honeft Ploughmen in that Part of Spai?i in which he liv'd ;
and Benedi£i from the Country-Fellows of that Part of Italy
in which he liv'd ; and Francis from the Husbandmen of
a different Place, and fo for the refr. Innk. So that for
aught I find:, you are no holier than we, unlefs you live ho-
lier. Con. Nay, we areworie than you, in that^ if we live
wickedly, we are a greater Stumbling to the Simple. Innk.
Is there any Hope of us then, who have neither Patron,
nor Habit, nor Rule, nor Profeffion ? Con. Yes, good
Man j fee that you hold ic faft. Ask your Godfathers what you
promis'd in Baptifm, what Profeflion you then made. Do
you want a human Rule, who have made a Profeflion of
the Gofpel Rule ? Or do you want a Man for a Patron,
who have Jefus Chrift for a Patron } Confider what you
owe to your Wife, to your Children, to your Family, and
you will find you have a greater Load upon you, than if you
had profeffed the Rule of Francis. Innk. Do you believe
that any Inn-keepers go to Heaven. Con. Why not? Innk:
There are a great many Things faid and done in this Houfe,
that are not according to the Gofpel. Con. What are they h
Innk. One fuddles, another talks Bawdy, another brawls, and
another flanders ; and laft of all, I can't tell whether they
keep themfelves honefl or not. Con. Yoy muft prevent thefe
Things as much as you can ; and if you cannot hinder them,
however, do not for Profit's fake encourage or draw on thefe
Wickednefies. Innk. Sometimes I don't deal very honeftly
as to my Wine. Con. Wherein } lank. When I find my
Guefts grow a little too hot, I put more Water into the
Wine. Con. That's a fmaller Fault than felling of Wine
made up with unwholfome Ingredients, hmk. But tell me
truly, how many Days have you been in this Journey ?
Con. Almofl a Month. Innk. Who takes care of you all
the while ? Con. Are not they taken care enough of, that
hav€ a Wife, and Children, and Parents, and Kindred ?
Innk. Oftentimes. Con. You have but one Wife, v/e have
a hundred ; ycu have but one Father, we have a hundred j
you have but one Houfe^ we have an hundred j you have
but a few Children, wc have an innumerable Company j
you have but a fev^ Kindred, we have an infinite Number.
I7ink. flow fo ? Con. Becaufe the Kindred of the Spirit ex'-
tends more largely, than the Kindred of theFiefli: SoChrifl-
haspromifed,and <h-^ c\'periencetheTruth ot vv'hathe haspro-
mifcd. Innk. In troth, you have been a good Companion for
me \ let mc die if I don't like this Difcourfe better than to
drink with our Pjtrfon. Do us the Honour to preach to the
People
[ ^53 ]
People To-morrowj and if ever you happen to come this
Way again, know that here's a Lodging tor you. Con. But
what if others fhould come ? Innk. They fhall be welcome,
if they be but fuch as you. Cojt. I hope they will be better.
Innk. But among fo many bad ones, how fhall I know which
are good ? Con. Y\\ tell you in a few Words, but in your
Ear. Imik. Tell me. Con. > . Imk. I'll remember it,
and do it. '
The Abbot and learned Woman.
The Argument.
yf certain Ahhot faying a Vifit to a Lady^ finds her
reading Greek and Latin Authors. ADifpute arifes^
'whence Pleafantnefs of Life proceeds^ viz. Nirtjrom
external Enjoyments^ hut from the Study of Wifdom.
An ignorant Ahhot will by ?w means have his Monks
to he learned ; nor has he himfelf fo much as afingle
Book in his Clofet. Pious Women in old l^vmes ga've
their Minds to the Study of the Scriptures 5 hut
Monks that hate Learnings and give themfelves up to
Luxury^ Idlenefs^ and Huntings are provok'd to ap-
ply . themfehes to other Kinds of Studies^ more be^
coming their Profefjion.
ANTR.ONIUS, MAGDADA.
/J^T. What fort of Houfiiold-ftufF do I fee ? Mag. h
•^•^ it not that which is neat? Ant. How neat it is, I can't
tell, but I'm fure, ic is not very becoming, either a Maid
or a Matron, Mag. Why fo ? Ant. Becaufe here's Books
lying about every where. Mag. What have you liv'd to this
Age, and are both an Abbot and a Courtier, and never faw
any Books in a Lady's Apartment? A7it. Yes, I have (ata,
Books, but they were French j but here I fee Greek and La-
tin ones. Mag. Why, are there no other Books but French
ones that teach Wifdom ? A7zt. But it becomes Ladies to
have fornething that is diverting, to pafs away their Leifure
Hours. Mag. Mull none but Ladies be wife, and live plea-
fantly }
[ ^54 .]
fantly ? Ant. You very improperly conned^ being wife and
living pleafantly together : Women have nothing x.6 do with
Wifdomj Pleafure is Ladies Bufmefs. Mag. Ought not eve-
ry one to Hve well? Ant, I am of Opinion, they ought fo to
do. Mag. Well, can any Body live a pleafanc Life, that
does not live a good Life ? Ant. Nay, rather, how can
any Body live a pleafant Life, that doernot live a good Life?
Mag. Why then, do you approve of living illy, if it be but
pleafanriy ? Ant. I am of the Opinion, that they live a
good Life, that live a pleafant Life. Mag. Well, hut
from whence does that Pleafure proceed ? From outward
Things, or from the Mind ? Ant. From outward Things-.
Mag. O fubrie Abbot j but thick-skuU'd Philofopher !
Pray tell me in what you fuppofe a pleafant Life to confift ?
Ant. Why, in Sleeping, and Feafting, and Liberty of doing
what you pleafe, in Wealth, and in Honours. Mag. But
fuppofe to all thefe Things God fhould add Wifdom,
fhould you live pleafantly then ? Ant. What is it that you
call by the Name of Wifdom ? Mag. This is Wifdom, to
know that a Man is only happy by the Goods of the Mind.
That Wealth, Honour, and Defcent, neither make a Man
happier or better. Ant. If that be Wifdom, fare it well
for me. Mag. Suppofe now that I take more Pleafure in
reading a good Author, than you do in Hunting, Drink-
ink, or Gaming ; won't you think I live pleafantly ?
Ant. I would not live that fort of Life. Mag. I don't en-
quire v^hat you take moft Delight in ; but what is it that
ought to be moft delighted in ? Ant. I would not have my
Monks mind Books much. Mag. But my Husband ap-
proves very well of it. But what Reafon have you, why
you would not have your Monks bookifh ? Ant. Becaufe
I find they are not fo obedient ; they anfwer again out of the
Decrees and Decretals of Feter and Taut. Mag. Why then
do you command them the contrary to what Veter and Taul
did ? Ant. I can't tell what they teach ; but I can't en-
dure a Monk that anfwers again : Nor would I have any
of my Monks wifer than I am my felf. Mag. Ycu might
prevent that well enough, if you did but lay your felf out,
to get as much Wifdom as you can. Ant. I han't Lei-
fure. Mag. Why fo ? Ant. Becaufe I han't Time. Mag.
What, not at Leifure to be wife ? Ant. No. Mag. Tray
v/hat hinders you ? Ant. Long Prayers, the Affairs of my
Houfhold, Hunting, looking after my Horfes, attending at
Court. Mag. Well, and do you think thefe Things are bet-
ter than Wifdom ? Ant. Cuftom has made it fo. Mag.
Well, but now anfwer me this one Thing : Suppole God
• (hould
[ ^ss ]
fftould grant you this Power, to be able to turn your felf
and your Monks into any Sort of Animal that you had
a Mind : Would you turn them into Hogs, and your felf
into a Horfe ? A?tt. No, by no means, Mag. By doing
;fo you might prevent any of them from being wifer than
your felf ? Ant. It is not much Matter to me what Sort
of Animals my Monks ^re, if I am but a Man my felf.
Mag. Well, and do you look upon him to be a Man that
neither has Wifdom, nor defires to have it ? Ant. I am
wife enough for my felf Mag. And fo are Hogs wife
enough for themfelves. Ant. You feem to be a Sophiftrefs,
you argue fo fmartly. Mag. I won't tell you what you
feem to me to be. But why does this Houlhold-flufF dif-
pleafe you ? Ant. Becaufe a Spinning-wheel is a Woman's
Weapon. Mag. Is it not a Woman's Bufinefs to mind the
Affairs of her Family, and to inftrucl her Children ? Ajit^
Tes, it is. Mag. And do you think fo weighty an Oiiice can
be executed without Wifdom ? Ant. I believe nor. Mag.
This Wifdom I learn from Books. Ant. I have threcfcore
and two Monks in my Cloifter, and you will not fee one
Book in my Chamber. Mag. The Monks are finely look'd
after all this while. Ant. I could difpenfe with Books j but
I can't bear li^f/?^ Books. iVf<2^. Why fo ? -^7^^. Becaufe that
Tongue is not fit for a Woman. Mag. I want to know the
Reafon. A7tt. Becaufe it contributes nothing towards the De-
fence of their Chaftity. Mag. Why then do French Books
that are ftuflF'd with the moft trifling Novels, contribute to
Chaftity ? Ant. But there is another Reafon. Mag. Let it
be what it will, tell me it plainly. A7zt. They are more fe-
jcure from the Priefbs, if they don't underftand *Latin. Mag,
iNay, there's the leaft Danger from that Quarter according
to your way of Workings becaufe you take all the I^ains you
can not to know any Thing of Latin. Ant. The common '
iPeopleareof my Mind, becaufe it isfucha rare unufual Thing
for a Woman to underfband liatin. Mag. What do you tell
me of the common People for, who are the v/orft Examples
in the World that can be follow'd. What have I to do with
jCuftom, that is the Midrefs of all evil Praftices .? We ought
to accuflom our felves to the bePc Things : And by that
Means, that which was uncuftomary would become habitual,
and that which was unpleafant would become pleaf<|nt ; and
that which feemed unbecom.ing would look graceflsl. Ant.
jl hear you. Mag. Is it becoming zGerma'dWomin to learn
'' to fpeak Frejuh ? Ant. Yes it is. Mag. Why is it ? Ant.
Becaufe then fhe will be able to converfe with thofe that
fpeak Frenfh. Mag. And why then is it unbecoming in me
to
to learn Latin, that I may be able daily to have ConverfatiorS
with fo many eloquent, learned and wife Authors, and faith-
ful Counfellors ? Ant. Books deftroy Womens Brains, who
have little enough of themfelves. Mag. What Quantity of
Brains you have left I cannot tell : And as for my felf, let
me have never fo litde, I had rather fpend them in Study,
than in Prayers mumbled over without the Heart going along
with them, or fitting whole Nights in Quaffing off Bumpers.
yint. Bookiflinefs makes Fo/^y mad. Nag. And does not the
Ratrie of your Pot-Companions, your Banterers, and Drolls,
make you mad ? Ant. No, they pafs the Time away.
Mag. How can it be then, that fuch pleafant Companions
fhould make me mad ? Ant. That's the common Saying.
Mag. But I by Experience find quite the contrary. How
many more do we fee grow mad by hard Drinking, unfea-
fonable Feafling, and fitting up all Night tippling, which de-
flroys the Conftitution and Senfes, and has made People
mad ? Ant. By my Faith, I would not have a learned Wife.
Mag. But I blefs my felf, that I have gotten a Husband that
is not like your felf Learning both endears him to me, and '
me to him. Ant. Learning coits a great deal of Pains to
get, and after all we muft die. Mag. Notable Sir, pray tell
me, fijppofe you were to die To-morrow, had you rather die
a Fool or a wife Man ? Jljtt. Why, a wife Man, if I could
come at it Vv'ithout taking Pains. Mag. But there is nothing
to be attained in this Life without Pains j and yet, let us get
what we will, and what Pains foevcr we are at to attain it,
we muft leave it behind us : Why then fliould we think
much to be at fome Pains for the moil: precious Thing ot
all, the Fruit of which will bear us Company unto another
Life. Ant. I have often heard it faid, that a wife Woman
is twice a Fool. Mag. That indeed has been often faid j but-
it was by Fools. A Woman that is truly wife does not think
her felf fo : But on the contrary, one that knows nothing,
thinks her felf to be wife, and that is being twice a Fool.
Ant. I can": well tell how it is, that as Panniers don't be-
come an Ox, fo neither does Learning become a Woman.
Mag. But, I fuppofe, you can't deny but Panniers will look
better upon an Ox, than a Mitre upon an Afs or a Sow.
What think you of the Virgin Mary ? Ant. Very highly. Mag.
W as not (he bookifli ? A7it. Yes ^ but not as to fuch Books as
thefe. Mag. What Books did fheread? Ant. The canonical
Hours. Mag. For the Ufe of whom } Ajit. Of the Order
of BenediBines. Mag. Indeed ? What did Paula and Enfio-
cbiu7u do } Did not they converfe with the holy Scriptures ?
Ant. Ay, but this is a rare Thing now. Mag. So was a
block-
blockheaded Abbot in old Time ; but now nothing is more
common. In old Times Princes and Emperors were as emi-
nent for Learning as for their Governments : And after ail, ic
is not fo great a Rarity as you think ic. There are both in
Spain and Italy not a few Women, that are able to vye with
the Men, and there are the Morites in England, and the Bili-
haU-duks and Blaureticks in Germany. So that unlefs you take
Care of your felves ic will come to that pafs, that we (hall be
Divinicy-Profefifors in the Schools, and preach in the Churches,
and take Pofleffion of your Mirres. Ant. God forbid. Mag,
Nay ic is your Bufinefs to forbid it. For if you hold on as
you have begun, even Geefe themfelves will preach before
they'll endure you a Parcel of dumb Teachers. You fee the
World is turn d upfide'-down, and you muft either lay afide
your Drefs, or perform your Part. Ant. How came I to
fall into this Woman's Company ? If you'll come to fee me,
I'll treat you more pleafantly. Mag. After what Manner ?
Ant. iPhy, we'll dance, and drink heartily, and hunt and play,
and laugh. Mag. I can hardly forbear laughing now.
vi^iitmemhftf^ ^^j^tiOLni m*n^i\ ■■nWii ^-■■-JtJMWf
The
The Epithalamium of ^etrus JEgidlus,
The Argu me NT.
1'hs Mufes and Graces are brought in, as ftnging the
Epithalamium 0/ Peter ^gidius. A\\\)i\isfpi€S the
nine Mufes, and the three Graces coming out of a>
Grove, which Balbinus can't fee : l^hey take their
IVay to Antwerp, to the Wedding of ^gidius, to
whom they wifh all Joy, that nothing of Difference
or Uneaftnefs may ever arife between ''em. How thofe
Marriages prove that are made, the Graces not fa-
vonring 'em. Congratulatory Verfcs.
ALIPIUS, BALBINUS, MUS^E.
At. Good God ! What firange glorious Sight do I fee
-'^ here ? Ba. Either you fee what is not to be feen, or
I can'c fee that which is to be fcen. Al. Nay, I'll affure
you, 'tis a wonderful charming Sight. Ba. Why do you
plague me at this Rate ? Tell me, where 'tis you fee it.
Al. Upon the left Hand there in the Grove, under the
Side of the Hill. Ba. 1 fee the Hill, but 1 can fee nothing
elfe. Al. No ! don't you fee a Company of pretty Maids
there ? Ba. What do you mean, to make a Fool of me
at this Rate ? I can't fee a bit of a Maid any where.
Al. Hufli, theyVe juft now coming out of the Grove. Oh
admirable! How neat they are! How charmingly they look!
'Tis a heavenly Sight. Ba. What ! Are you poflefs'd ?
Al. Oh, I know who they are ; they're the nine Mufes,
and the three Graces, I wonder what they're a-doing. I
never in all my Life faw 'em more charmingly dreG'd, nor
in a gayer Humour j they have every one of 'em got
Crowns of Laurel upon their Heads, and their Inftrumenrs
of Mufick in their Hands. And how lovingly the Graces
go Side by Side } How becomingly they look in their loofe
Drefs, with their Garments flowing and trailing after 'em.
Ba. I never heard any Body £jilk raore like a Mad-man in
all
[ ^S9 ]
all my Days, than you do. Al. You never faw a happier
Man in all your Life-time. Ba. Pray what's rhe Matter,
that you can fee and I can't ? ^/. Becaufe you have never
drank 6f the Mufes Fountain j and no Body can fee 'em
but they that have. Ba. i have drank plentifully out of
^ Scotus's Fountain. Al. But that is not the Fountain of the
^ Mufes, but a Lake of Frogs. Ba. But can't you do fome-
thing to make me lee this Sight, as -well as you ? Al. I
could if I had a Ladrel-Branch here, for Water out of a
clear Spring, fprinkled upon one with a Laurel Bough, makes
the Eyes capable of fuch Sights as thele. Ba. Why, fee here
is a Laurel and a Fountain too "i . Al. Is there ? That's
clever, I vow. Ba. But prithee, fpiinkle Tf2e v:ith it. Al.
Now look, do you fee now .^ Ba. As much as I did be-
■/ fore. Sprinkle Me again. Al. Well, now do you lee ? Ba.
Juft as much ; fprinkle me plentifully. Al. I believe yoti
can't but fee now. Ba. Now I can fcarce fee you. AL
Ah poor Man, how total a Darknefs has feized your Eyes !
This Art would open even the Eyes of an old Coachman :
But however, don't plague your felf about itj perhaps 'tis
better for you riot to fee it, left you fiiould come o£F as ill
by feeing the Mufes, as Ailaon did by feeing Diana : For
you'd perhaps be in Danger of being turn'd either into a
Hedgehog, or a wild Boar, a Swine, a Camel, a Frog, or
^ JackdavV. But however. If you can't fee, I'll make ydii
hear 'em, if you don't make a Noife ^ they are juft a-coming
this Way. Let's meet 'em. Hail, moft welcome God-
defies. Mu. And you heartily. Lover of the Mufes. Ali
What niakes you piill me fo ? Ba. You an'c as good as
your word. Al. Why don't you hear 'etii } Bat. I hear,
fomewhat, but I don't knOw what it is. Al. Well, I'll
fpeak L,dtin to 'em then. Whither are you ^oing fo fine
and fo brisk ? Are you going to Louvain to fee the Uni-
verdty ? Mu. No, we aifure you, we wont go thither. Al.
Why no't ? Mu. What Place is for us, where fo many Hogs
are grunting. Camels and Afles braying. Jackdaws cawingj
dnd Magpies chattering ? Al. But for all that, there are
fome there that are your Admirers. Mu. We know that,
and therefore we'll go thither a few Years hence. The fiic-
cefTive Period of Ages has not yet brought on that Time ;
for there will be one, that will build us a pleafant Houfe
there, or a Temple rather, fach a one, as there fcarce is a
finer or more facred any where elfe. Al. Mayn't a Body
know who it will be, that fiiall do fo much Honour to our
Coufttry ? Mu. You may know it, that are one of our
S 2 Priefts f.
[ a6o 1
Priefts ? There's no doubt, but you have heard the Nacse
of the BulfLidia7Js, famojs al the, World over. Al. You
have mention'd a noble Famiy truly, born ro grace the
Palaces of the greateft Princes in the Univerfe. For who
does not revere the great Francis BulJIidius, the Bifliop of the
Church of Bezanfon, who has approv'd himfelf more than
a finole Nejtor, to Philip the Son of Maximilian the Great* .
the Father of Charles, who will alfo be a greater Man than
his Father ? jMu. O how happy had we been, if the Fates
had not envy'd the Earth the Happinefs of fo great a Man.
What a Patron was he to all liberal Studies ! How candid
a Favourer of Ingenuity ! But he has left two Brothers,
Giles, a Man of admirable Judgment and Wifdom, and
yerovie. Al. We know very well that Jerome is fingularly
well accompliih'd Vi'ith all manner of Literature, and adorn'd
with every kind of Virtue, Mii. But the Deftinies won't
fufPer him to be long-liv'd neither, though no Man in the
World better deferves to be immortaliz'd. Al. How do
you know that ? Mu, We had it from Apollo. Al. How
envious are the Deftinies, to take from us all defirable
Things fo haftily ? Mu. We muft not talk of that at this
time i but this Jerome, dying with great Applaufe, will leave
his whole Eftate for the building a College at "Louvain, ia
Vv'hich moft learned Men (hall profefs and teach publickly,
and gratis, the three Languages. Thefe Things will bring a,
great Ornament to Learning, and Glory to Charles himfelf :
Then v/e'll refide at Lowvain, with all our HeaYts. Al. But
whither are you going now ? Nu. To A7it'werp. Al. What,
the Mafes and Graces going to a Fair ? Mu. No, we af-
fure you, ix;^ are not going to a Fair ; but to a Wedding.
Al. What have Virgins to do at Weddings ? Mu. 'Tis no
indecent Thing at all, for Virgins to be at fuch a Wed-
ding as this is. Al. Pray what fort of a Marriage is it ?
• M». A holy, undefiled, and chafte Marriage, fuch a one as
Tallas herfelf need not to be afham'd to be at : Nay, more
than that, we believe flie v.'ill be at it. Al. Mayn't a
Body know the Bride and Bridegroom's Name ? Mu. We
believe you muft needs know that moft courteous and
accoraplifh'd Youth' in all Kinds of polite Learning, Feter
JEgtdius. Al. You have named an Angel, not a Man. Mtt.
The pretty Maid Cornelia, a fit Match for Apollo himfelf, is
going to be married to JEgidins. Al. Indeed, he has been
a great Admirer of you, even from his Infancy. Mu. We
are going to fing him an Epithalamium. Al. What, and
will the Graces dance too ? Mu. They will not only dance,
but they will alfo unite thofe two true Lovers, with the indiffo-
' luble
[ 1^1 ]
luble Ties of mutual AfFeftion, that no Difference or jarr-
ing fhall ever happen between 'em. She fhall never hear any
thing from him, but my Life j nor he from her, bur my
Soul : Nay : and even old Age itfelf, fliall be lb far from di-
minifliing that, that it (hall increafe the Pleafure. Al. I
fliould admire at it, if thofe that live fo Jweetly, could ever
be able to grow old. Mu. You fay very righr, for ic is ra-
ther a Maturity, than an old Age. M. But I have known a
great many, to whom thefe kind Words have been chang'd
into the quite contrary, in lefs than three Months Time j and
inftead of pleafant Jefls at Table, Difhes and Trenchers have
flown about. The Husband, inftead of my dear Soul, has
been call'd Blockhead, Tofs-pot, Swil!-tub j and the Wife,
Sow, Fool, dirty Drab. Mu. You fay very true ; bur thefe
Marriages were made when the Graces were out of Humour :
But in this Marriage, a Sweetnefs of Temper will always
maintain a mutual AfFedion. Al. Indeed you fpeak of fuch
a happy Marriage as is very feldom ken. Mm. An uncom-
mon Felicity is due to fuch uncommon Virtues. Al. Buc
what ! Will the Matrimony be v^'xihoutjmio and Ve7Uii ? Mu.
Indeed ^uno won't be there, fhe's a fcolding Goddefs, and is
but feldom in a good Humour with her own Jove : Nor
indeed, that earthly drunken Venus ; but another heavenly One,
which makes a Union of Minds. Al. Then the Marriacre
you Ipeak of, is like to be a barren one. Mu. No, by no
means, but rather like to be the moft happily fruitful. A/.
What, does that heavenly Fe?ius produce any Thing but Sou's
then ? Mu. Yes, fiie gives Bodies to the Souls ; but fuch
Bodies, as fhall be exa^ly conformable to 'em, juft as though
you fhould put a choice Ointment into a curious Box of Pearl.
Al. Where is fhe then ? Mu. Look, flie is coming towards
you, a pretty Way off. Al. Oh! I fee her kow. O good
God, how bright fJje is ! How majefticai and beautiful flis
appears.? The t'other Ve?2us compar'd with this, is a homely
one. Mu. Do you fee what modeft CupiJs there are ; they
are no blind Ones, fuch as that Ve?ius has, that makes Man-
kind mad ? But thefe are fharp little Rogues, and ihey don't
carry furious Torches, but mofl gentle Fires ; they have no
leaden-pointed Darts, to make the belov'd hare the Lover, and
torment poor Wretches with the want of a reciprocal Af-
fection. Al. In truth, they're as like their Mother as can be.
Oh, that's a bleffed Houfe, and dearly belov'd by the Gods !
But may not a Body hear the Marriage-Song that you defign
to prefent 'em with .^ Mu. Nay, we were ju(t a-going to ask
you to hear it.
S3 CLIO.
CLIO, .
Peter hath married fair Cornelia:,
Propifious Heaven, blefs the Wedding-Day.
MELPOMENE.
Concord of fa) Turtle-Doves het'u.-een them hi.
And of the (b) Jijck-daw the Vivacity.
THALIA.
Trom (c) Gracchus may he win the Prize,
And for CofneUaV hife, hts own defpife.
EUTERPE.
JMay (he in Love exceed (d) Admetus' Wife,
Who laid her own down, for her Husband's Life.
TERPSICHORE.
May he love her with fironger Flame^
"But much more happy Fate,
Than (e) Plancius, who did difdain
To out-live his deceased Mate.
ERATO.
May Jbe love him with no lefs Flame,
But with much better Fate •
Then ff) Porcia chafe, her Brutus didi.
Whom brave Men celebrate.
GAL.
(a) Tuytlc-Doiies. This Bird is remarkable for the Conftancy of its Love
to its Mate.
(b) yackdaiv. This Bird is faid to be longer-IivM than any other Bird.
(c) Gracchus. Plutarch writes of I'iberius Gracchus, that when two Snakes
hsppen'd to be found in his Bed, and he was told by the Sooth-layers, that
one of them muft of Neceflity be kiJlcd, and tlie other be let go \ and that if
(lie Male was kill'd, he <hou]d die himfelf, but if the Female, his "Wife j he
chofe to kill the Male, and accordingly died foon after.
(d) Admetui. Akejle, the Wife of Admetus, King of Theffafy, according
to the Anfwcr of the Oracle, offered her felt to Death, that her Husband might
secover of a Sicknefs.
(e) Plancius. Plai:cius feeing his'Wi'fe's Body bid upon the Funeral Pile,
was fo affefted with the Sif ht, that he drew his Sword and flew himfelf, aUid
W4S by his Friends buried w:th hisdcaV Wjfe Orcficlla.
(f) Porcia, Pcrcia, the Daughter of Cato, and Wife of Brutus; her Hus-
band.
[2^3 1
CALLIOPE.
For Conjlancy, I loifb the Bridegroom may
Be ecjual to the famous (gj Nafica.
URANIA.
The Bride in Chaflity may Jbe
Superior to (hj Paterculana be. !,
POLYHYMNIA.
May their Offspring like them bey
Their Honour equal their Efiate ;
Alixjays from ranc'rous Envy free.
Deferred Glory on them tvait.
band. Brutus being vanqui/h'd and flain at PhiF'pfi, not being able to pro-
cure a Sword, fwallowed burning Coals, and lb kill'd herfcU'.
(g) Nafica, Scipio Nafica, was by the Senate efteeni'd the beft of all the
Romans, and the only Perfon who was worthy to receive the Mother of the
Gods, that had been newly brought to Rome.
(h) Paterculana, The Daughter of Pawn'/Vr/i, theWite of Fufvius Flacci/s,
was for her Chaftity chofen out of a hundred Matrons, to dedicate the Image of
yenus at Rome,
AL I fhould very much envy Veter JEgidius fo ?/!uch Happi-
nefs, but that he is a Man of fuch Candour, that he him-
felf envies nobody. Mu. It '\stio--w high Time for us to pro-
fecute our Journey. Al. Have you any Service to command
me ac Louvain. Mu. That thou wouldll: recommend us to
all our fincere loving Friends ; but efpecially to our anricnc
Admirers, John Valudus, Jodocus Gaverius, Martin Dorpii/s,
and John Borfalus. Al. Well, I'll be fure to take Care to do
your Meflage. What fhall I fay to the reft ? Mu. I'll tell
you in your Ear. Al. Well, 'tis a Matter that won't coil
vjsry much j it fhall certainly be done out of Hand.
S 4 The
The Exorcifm or Apparition.
The Argument,
^hls Colloquy detedis the jirtifice^ of tmpojlors^ who
impofe upon the credulous and fimple^ framing Stories
of apparitions of Daemons and Ghofts, and divine
P^oices. Polus is the Author of a Rumour^ that an
Apparition of a certain Soul was heard in his Grounds ^
howling after a lamentable Manner : At another
Place he pretends to fee a Dragon in the Air^ in the
middle of the Day^ and perfuades other Perfons that
they faw it too -, and he prevails upon Faunus, a
Parifh-Priefl of a neighbouring Town^ to make Trial
of the T'ruth of the Matters^ who confents to do itj
and prepares Exorcifins. Polus gets upon a black. \
Horfe^ throzvs Fire about^ and with divers "Tricks
deceives credulous Faunus, and other Mca of none of
the deepeji Penetration.
THOMAS, ^«i ANSELM.
r^H O. What good News have you had, that you laugh to
•^ your felf thus, as if you had found a Treafure ? Ajif.
Nay. you are not far from the Macter. Tha. But won't
you impart it to your Companion, what good Thing foever
it is ? Ajif. Yes, I v/ill, for I have been williing a* good
while, for fomebody to communicate my Merriment to.
Tho. Come on then, let's have if. Anf. I was jijft now told
the pleai'anteft Story, which you'd fwear was a Sham, if
J divi not know the Place, the Perfons, and whole Matter,
as well as you know me. Tho. I'm wich-Child to hear it,
.Anf. Do you know Toha, Faunus's Son-in-Law } Tho,
Pcrfedly well. AnJ. He's both the Contriver and Ador of
- this Play. Tho. I am apt enough to believe that ; for he
can adl any Part to the Life. Anf, He can fo : I fuppofe
too, you know that he has a Farm not far from Lovdon.
Tho. Phoo, very well ; he and I have drank together many
a-timc
[ ^^5 1
t-time there^ j^nf. Then you know there is a Way be-
tween two ftrait Rows of Trees. Tho. Upon the left Hand,
about two flight Shot from the Houfe. u4nf. You have it.
On one fide of the Way there is a dry Dicchj overgrown
with Thorns and Brambles j and then there's a Way that
leads into an open Field from a little Bridge. The. I re-
member it. Anf. There went a Report for a long Time
among the Country-People, of a Spirit that walk'd near that
Bridge, and of hideous Howlings that were every now and
then heard there : They concluded it was the Soul of fome-
body that was miferably tormented. Tho. W ho was it that
raifed this Report? ^nf. Who but Poluj, that made this
the Prologue to his Comedy. Tho. What did he mean by
inventing fuch a Flam ? ^nf. I know nothing j but that it
is the Humour of the Man, he takes delight to make him-
felf Sport, by playing upon the Simplicity of People, by fuch
Fidions as thefe. I'll tell you what he did lately of the
fame kind. We were a good many of us riding to Rich'
mond, and fome of the Company were fuch that you would
fay were Men of Judgment. It was a wonderful clear Day,
and not fo much as a Cloud to be feen there. Tolus look-
ing willfully up into the Air, figned his Face and Breaft wirh
the Sign of the Crofs, and having compos'd his Countenance
to an Air of Amazement, fays to himfelf, O immortal God,
what do I fee ! They that rode next to him asking him what
it was that he faw, he fell again to figning himfelf with a
greater Crofs. May the moft merciful God, fays he, deli-
ver me from this Prodigy. They having urg'd him, definng
to know what was the Matter, he fixing his Eyes up to Hea-
ven, and pointing with his Finger to a certain Qtiarter of it,
don't you fee, fays he, that monftrous Dragon arm'd with
fiery Horns, and its Tail turn'd up in a Circle } And they
denying they faw it, he bid them look earneftly, every now
and then pointing to the Place ; At lafl: one of them, that he
might not feem to be bad-fighted, affirmed that he iaw it. And
in Imitation of him, firft one, and then another, for they
were alham'd that they could not fee what was fo plain to
I be feen : And in iliort, in three Days time, the Rumour of
j this portentous Apparition had fpread all over Eng/.aui. And
ii it is wonderful to think how popular Fame had amplified
jj the Story, and fome pretended ferioufiy to expound to what
j this Portent did predict, and he that vi'as the Contriver of
I the Fidion, took a mighty Pieafure in the Folly of thefe
People. Tho. I know the Humour of the Man v^'ell enough.
But to the Siiory of the Apparition, .^^f. la the mean
Time,
Time, one Vaunus a Prieft (of thole which in Latin they
cit[\ Regulars, but that is not enough, unlefs they add the fame
in Greek too, who was Parfon of a neighbouring PariHi, this
Man thought himfelf wifer than is common, efpecially ia
holy Matters) came very opportunely to pay a ViGt to Tolut.
ThQ. I underftand the Matter : There is one found out to be
an A6tor in this Play. Anf. At Supper a Difcourfe was rai-
fed of the Report of this Apparition, and when Folus per-
ceiv'd that F^u?!us had not only heard of the Report, but be-
liev'd it, he began to intreat the Man, that as he was a holy
and a learned Perfon, he would afford fome Relief to a poor
Sdul that was in fuch dreadful Torment : And, fays he, if
you are in any Doubt as to the Truth of it, examine into
t|ie Matter, and do but walk near that Bridge about Ten
a-'Clock, and you fhall hear miferable Cries ; take who you
"will for a Companion along with you, and fo you will hear
both more fafely and better. Tho. Well, what then } Anf.
After Supper was over, Tolus, as his Cuftom was, goes a
Hunting or Fowling. And when it grew duskifli, the Dark-
nefs having taken away all Opportunity of making any cer-
tain Judgment of any Thing, Faunus walks about, and at
laft hears miferable Bowlings. Polus having hid himfelf in a
Bramble Hedge hard by, had very artfully made ihefe
Howlings, by fpeaking through an earthen Pot; the Voice
coming through the hollow of it, gave it a moft mourn-
ful Sound. Tho. This Story, as far as I fee, out-does Me-
vander's Thafina. Anf. You'll fay more, if you fhall hear
it out. Faunus goes home, being impatient to tell what he
had heard. Tolus taking a fhorter Way, had got home be«-
fore him. Faunus up and tells Tolus all that paft, and added
fomething of his own to it, to make the Matter more won-
derful. Tho. Could Tolus keep his Countenance in the mean
Time ? Anf He keep his Countenance 1 He has his Coun-
tenance in his Hand, you would have faid that a ferious
Affair was tranfaded. In the End Faunus, upon the pref-
fing Importunity of To\us, undertakes the Bufinefs of Exor-
cifm, and flept not one Wink all chat Night, in contriving
by what Means he might go about the Matter with Safety,
for he was wretchedly afraid. In the firft Place he got to-
gether the moft powerful Exorcifms that he could get, and
added fome new ones to them, as the Bowels of the Virgin
Mary, and the Bones of St. Winifred. After that, he makes
Choice of a Place in the plain Field, near the Bramble
Buflies, from whence the Voice came. He draws a
very large Circle with a great many Crofles in it, and a
Variety
I 1^7 1
Variety of Charaders. And all this was perform'd in a
fet Form of Words ; there was alfo there^ a great Veirel
full of holy Water, and about his Neck 'he had a holy
Stole (as they call'd it)- upon which hung the Beginning
of the Gofpel of John. He had in his Pocket a little
Piece of Wax, which the Biihop of 'Rome ufed to con-
fecrate once a Year, which is commonly call'd Agnus Dei.
With thefe Arms in Times paft, they were wont to de-
fend themfelves againft evil Spirits, before the Cowl of
St. Francis was found to be fo formidable. All thefe Things
were provided, left if it fhould be an evil Spirit it fliould
fall foul upon the Exorcift : nor did he for all this, dare to
truft himfelf in the Circle alone, but he determined to take
fome other Prieft along with him. Upon this Polus being
afraid, that if he took fome fharper Fellow than himfelf
along with him, the whole Plot might come to be difco-
ver'd, he got a Parifh-Prieft thereabout, whom he acquaint-
ed before-hand with the whole Defign ; and indeed ic
was neceffary for the carrying on the Adventure, and he
was a Man fit for fuch a Purpofe. The Day following, all
Things being prepar'd and in good Order, about Ten a-
Clock Vaunus and the Parifli-Prieft enter the Circle. Tolus
had got thither before them, and made a miferable Howl-
ing out of the Hedge ; Faunus begins his Exorcifm, and
Tolus fteals away in the Dark to the next Village, and brings
from thence another Perfon, for the Play could not be aded
without a great many of them. Tho. Well, what do they
do ? Anf. They mount themfelves upon black Horfes, and
privately carry Fire along with them ; when they come pretty
near to the Circle, they fliew the Fire to affright Faunus
out of the Circle. Tho. What a deal of Pains did i\\\s Polus
take to put a Cheat upon People ? Anf. His Fancy lies
that Way. But this Matter had like to have been mifchie-
vous to them. Tho. How fo ? Anf. For the Horfes were
fo ftartled at the fuddcn flafhing of the Fire, that they had
like to have thrown their Riders. Here's an End of the firft
Ad: of this Comedy. When they were returned and enter-
ed into Difcourfe, Polus, as though he had known nothing
of the Matter, enquires what was done. Faunus tells him,
that two hideous Cacodicmons appear'd to him on black
Horfes, their Eyes fparkling with Fire, and breathing Fire
out of their Noitrils, making an Attempt to break into the
Circle, but that they were driven away with a Vengeance,
by the Power and Efficacy of his Words. This Encounter
having put Courage into Faunus, the next Day he goe* into
' his
i ^<^8 ]
his Circle again with gre^t Solemnity, and after he had pro- '
vok'd the Spirit a long Time with the Vehemence of his
Words, Folus and his Companion appear again at a pretty
Dijftance, with their black Horfes, with a moffc outragious
Noife, making a Feint, as if they would break into the Cir-
cle. Tho. Had they no Fire then ? ^;// No, none at all j
for that had lik'd to have fallen out very unluckily to them.
But hear another Device : They drew a long Rope over the
Ground, and then hurrying from one Place to another, as
though they were beat off by the Exorcifms of Vaunus, they
threw down both the Prieft and holy Water-pot all together.
Tho. This Reward the Parifh- Prieft had for playing his Part?
jinf. Yes, he had ; and for all that, he had rather fuffer this
than quit the Defign. After this Encounter, when they came
to talk over the Matter again, Vaunus tells a mighty Story to
Volus, what great Danger he had been in, and how coura-
gioufly he had driven both the evil Spirits away with his
Charms, and now he had arriv'd at a 6rm Perfuafion, that
there was no Daemon, let him be ever fo mifchievous or im-
pudent, that could poflibly break into this Circle. Tho.
This Vaunus was not far from being a Fool. Ant. You have
heard nothing yet. The Comedy being thus far advanc'd,
Tolush Son-in-Law comes in very good Time, for he had
married Volus\ eldeft Daughter \ he's a wonderful merry Droll,
you know. Tho. Know him ! Ay, I know him, that he has
no Averfion for fuch Tricks as thefe. Anf. No Averfion, do
you fay, nay he would leave the moft urgent Affair in the
World, if fuch a Comedy were either to be feen or adled.
His Father-in-law tells him the whole Story, and gives him
his Part, that was, to adt the Ghoft. He puts on a Drefs,
and wraps himfelf up in a Shrowd, and carrying a live Coal
in a Shell, it appear'd through his Shrowd as if fomething
were burning. About Night, he goes to the Place where
this Play was adled, there were heard moft doleful Moans.
Vaunus lets fly all his Exorcifms. At length the Ghoft ap-
pears a good way off in the Bufhes, every now and then (hew-
ing the Fire, and making a pueful Groaning. While F,(7«»«f
was adjuring the Ghoft to declare who he was, Volus of a
fudden leaps out of the Thicket, drefs'd like a Devil, and
making a Roaring, anfvvers him, you have nothing to do
with this Soul, it is mine ; and every now and then runs to
the very edge of the Circle, as if he would fet upon the
Exorcift, and then retired back again, as if he was beaten back
by the Words of the Exorcifm, and the Power of the holy
Water, which he threw upon him in great abundance. At
laft
laft when this guardian Devil was chafed away, Paunui
enters into a Dialogue with the Soul. After he had been
interrogated and abjured, he anfwers, that he was the Soul
of a Chriftian Man, and being asked his Name, he an-
fwered Faunus. Faunus ! replies the other, that's my Name.
So then they being Name-fakes^ he laid the Matter more
to Heart, that Faunus might deliver Faunus. F<?K»»y asking
a Multitude of Queftions, left a long Difcourfe fliould dif-
cover the Fraud, the Ghoft retires, faying it was not per-
mitted to ftay to talk any longer, becaufe its Time was
come, that it muft go whither its Devil pleafed to carry
it i but yet promifed to come again the next Day, at wh«c
Hour it could be permitted. They meet together again at
Tolui's Houfe, who was the Mafter of the Show. There
the Exorcift relates what was done, and tho' he added
fome Lies to the Story, yet he believed them to be true
himfejf, he was fo heartily affeded with the Matter in
Hand. At laft it appeared manifeftly, that it was the Soul
of a Chriftian who was vexed with the dreadful Torments
of an unmerciful Devil : Now all the Endeavours are bene
this Way. There happened a ridiculous Paflage in the next
Exorcifm. Tho. Prithee what was that.? Anf. When Fau-
nui had called up the Ghoft, Tolus, that aded the Devil,
leap'd diredtly at him, as if he would, without any more
to do, break into the Circle i and Faunut he refifted ftoutly
with his Exorcifms^ and had thrown a power of Holy Wa-
ter, the Devil at laft cries out, that he did not value all
this of a Ru(h ; you have had to do with a Wench, and
you are my own your felf. And tho' he had told Folus
fo in jeft, it feemed that he had fpoken Truth : For the Ex-
orcift being touched with this Word, prefently retreated to
the very Center of the Circle, and whifpered fomething ia
the Prieft's Ear. Foks feeing that, retires, that he might
not hear what it was not fit for him to hear. Tho. In
Truth, Tolui was a very mod eft, religious Devil. Anf.
He was fo, otherwife he might have been blamed for not
obferving a Decorum, but yet he heard the Prieft's Voice
appointing him Satisfaction, Tho. What was that } Anf.
That he ftiould fay the glorious 78th Pfalm, three times
over, by which he conjedured he had had to do with her
three times that Night. Tho. He was an irregular Regular:
AnfThsy are but Men, and this is but hnmsin Frailty. Tho,
Well, proceed: What was done after this ? Anf. NowFau-
Ttus more couragioufly advances to the very Edge of the Cir-
cle, and challenges the Devil of his own accord ; but the
Devil's Heart failed him, and he fled back. Tou have deceived
me.
[ 270 1
me, fays he, if \ had been wife I had not given you that Cau-
tion : Many are of Opinion, that what you have once confefs'di
is immediately ftruck out of the Devil's Memory, that he cari
' never be able to twit you in the Teeth for it. Tho. What a
ridiculous Conceit ^Q you tell me of?. A7if. But to draw to-
wards a Conclufion of the Marter • This Dialogue with the
Ghoft held for feme Days ^ at laft it came to this Iflue ; The
Exorcift asking the Soul, If there was any way, by which
it might pofTibly be delivered from its Torrnems? Itanfwer-
ed, it might, if the Money that it had left behind, being got-
ten by Cheating, fliould be reftored. Then, fays Ftf»w«j, What
if it were put into the Hands of good People, to be difpofed of
topiousUfes? The Spirit reply'd, Thatmightdo. TheExor-
cift was rejoic'd at thisj he enquires particularly^ What Sum
there wasofic? The Spirit reply'd. That it w^s a vaft Sum>
and might prove very good and commodious: It told the Place
too where the Treafure was hid, but it was a long way off:
And it ordered what Ufes it fhould be put to. Tho. What
were they? Anf. That three Perfons were to undertake a
Pilgrimage j one to the Threshold of St. Veter \ another to
falute St. James at Compojiella j and the third fhould kifs Je-
fus's Comb at Tryers j and after that, a vaft Number of
Services and MafTes fhould be performed in feveral great
Monafteries ; and as to the Overplus, he i^ould difpofe of ic
as he pleas'd. Now Faunus's Mind was fixed upon the Trea-
fure-, he had, in a manner, fwallowed it in his Mind. Tho.
That's a common Difeafe , but more peculiarly thrown in
the Priqfts Difh, upon all Occafions. Aiif. After nothing had
been omitced that related to the Affair of the Money, theExor-
cift being put upon ic by Polus, began to put Queftions \.o
the Spirit, about feveral Arts, as Alchimy and Magick. To
thele Things the Spirit gave An(\vers, putting off the Refolu-
tion of thefe Queftions for the prefent, promifmg it would
make larger Diicoveries as foon as ever, by his Afliftance, it
fhould get out of the Clutches of ics Keeper, the Devil j and,
if you pleafe, you may let this be the third Ad of this Play.
As to the fourth A(5t, Vaunus began, in good Earneft, every
where to talk high, and to talk of nothing elfe in all Compa-
nies and at the Table, and to promiie glorious Things to Mo--
nafteries j and talk'd of nothing that was low and mean. He
goes to the Place, and finds the Tokens, but did not dare to
dig for the Treafure, becaufc the Spirit had thrown this Cau-
tion in the Way, that it would be extremely dangerous to"
touch the Treafure, before the Mafies had been performed.
By this time, a great many of the wifcr Sort had fmelt out
the Plot, while Fau7ius at the fame time was every wherd
[ ^71 ]
proclaiming his Folly; tbo' he was privately caution'd by his
Friends, and efpecially his Abbot, that he v/ho had hitherto
had the Reputation of a prudent Man, iliould not give the
World a Specimen of his being quite contrary. But the Ima-
gination of the Thing had fo entirely poffefs'd his Mind, that
all that could be faid of him, had no Influence upon him, to
make him doubt of the Matter j and he dreamt of nothing but
Spedres and Devils : The very Habit of his Mind v^as got
into his Face, that he was fo pale, and meagre and dejedted,
that you would fay he was rather a Sprite than a 'Man : And
in fhon, he was not far from being ftark mad, and would
have been fo, had it not been timely prevented. Tho. Well,
let this be the laft Aft of the Play. ^nf. Well, you fhall
have it. Tolus and his Son in-law, hammer'd out this Piece
betwixt them : They counterfeited an Epiftle written in a
ftrange antique Charafter, and not upon common Paper,
but ibch as Gold-beaters put their Leat-gold in, a reddilli Pa-
per, you know. The Form of the Epiille was this :
Faunus, long a Captive^ but now free. To Faunus, hit gra-
cious Deliverer Jends eternal Health. There is no need, my dear
Faunus, that thou Ihouldefi macerate thyfelf any longer in this
Affair.. God has refpeBed the pious Intention of thy Mind\ and
hy the Merit of it, has delivered me from Torments, a7idInonx)
live happily among the Angels. Thou ha(i a Place provided for
thee with 5^. Auilin, which is next to the Choir of the Apoflles :
When thou comeji to us, I will give thee publick Thanks. In
the mean time, fee that thou live merrily,
"From the Imperial Heaven, the
Ji^ff <?/September, ^«w 1498.
Under the Seal of my own Ring.
This Epiftle was laid privately under the Altar where F.«»7;w
was to perform divine Service : This being done, there was
one appointed to advertiJe him of it, as if he had found it by
Chance. And now he carries the Letter about him, and fhews
it as a very facred thing; and believes nothing more firmly,
than that it was brcfught from Heaven by an Angel. Tho.T\\\s
is not deliveiingth^ Man from his MadneG, but changing the
Sort of it. Anf. Why truly, fo it is, only he is now more
pleafantly mad than before. Tho. I never was wont to give
much Credit to Stories of Apparitions in common ; but for
the time to come, I fhall give much iefs : For I believe that
many Things that have been printed and publifhed, as true
Relations, were only by Artifice and Impofture, Impofitions
upon credulous Perfons, and fach as Faunus. Anf. And I
alfo believe that a great many of them are of the fame
Kind. . "^ ' .The
[a;.]
The Alchymift.
The Argument.
S^/V Colloquy Jhews the Dotage of an old Man^ other*
wife a very prudent Perfon^ upon this Art ; being
tricked by a Priefl^ under Pretence of a twofold Me*
ihod In this Art^ the long Way and the {hort Way.
By the long Way he puts an egregious Cheat upon old
Balbinus: T^he Alchymifl lays the Fault upon his
Coals and Glaffes. Prefents of Gold are fent to the
Virgin Mary, that fhe would afjiji them in their Un-
dertakings. Some Courtiers having cqme to the Know- •
ledge that Balbinus pra£iis''d this unlawful Art^ are
hriyd. At lafi the Alchymifl is difchar^d^ having
Money given him to bear his Charges.
PHILECOUS, LALUS.
My HI. What News is here, that Lalus laughs to hlmCcl?
•^ (b that he e'en giggles again, every now and then figning ;
hi nfelf with the Sign of- the Crofs ? I'll interrupt his Fe-
licity. God blefs you hear.ily, my very good Friend La^
lus j you feem to me to be very happy. L.a. But I fhall be
much happier, if I make you a Partaker of my merry Cono
ceitednels. Thi. Prithee, then, make me happy as foon as
you can. La. Do you know Balbinus ? Phi. What, that
learned old Gentleman that has fuch a very good Character in
the World . La. It is as you fay j but no Man is wife at all
times, or is without his blind Side. This Man, among his
many good Qualifications, has fome Foibles: He has been a
long time bewitch'd with the Art call'd Alchi?nv. Phi. Be-
lieve me, that you call only Foible, is a dangerous Difeafe,
La. However that is, notvvithftanding he had been fo of-
ten bitten by this fort of People, yet he has lately fuflFer'd himfelf
to be impos'd upon again. Phi. In what manner.^ La. A
certain Prielt went to him, faluted him with great Refpedt,
and accofted him in this manner : Moft learned BalbinttSi
perhaps you will wonder that I, bein^ a Stranger to you,i
fliould
C ^73 ]
fhould thus interrupt you, who, I know, are always earneft-
ly engag'd in the moft facred Studies. BaWinus gr.ve him
a Nod, as was his Cuftom j for he is wonderfully fparing
of his Words. Thi. That's an Argument of Prudence, L.a.
But the other, as the wifer of the two, proceeds. You will
forgive this my Importunity, when you fhall know the Caure
of my coming to you. Tell me then, fays Balbinusy but in
as few Words as you can. I will, fays he, as briefly as I
am able. You know, moft learned of Men, that the Faces
of Mortals are various ; and I can't tell am-^ng which I
Ihould clafs my feif, whether among the happy or the mife-
rable ; for when I contemplate my Face on en? Part, I ac-
count my felf moft happy, but if on the other Part, I am
one of the moft miferable. Balthius prcffing him to con-
tradl his Speech into a narrow Compafs^ 1 wiil have done
immediately, fays he, and it will be the more eafy for me to
do it, to a Man who underftands the whole Affair fo well,
that no Man underftands it better. Phi. You are rather
drawing an Orator than an Alchymift, La. You fhall hear
the Alchymift by and by. This Happinefs, fays he, I have
had from a Child, to have learn'd that moft defirable Art, I
mean Alchymy, the very Marrow of univerfal Philofophy.
At the very Mention of the Name Alchymy, Balhiuus rais'd
himfelf a little, that is to fay, in Geftiire only, and fetching
a deep Sigh, bid him go forward. Then he proceeds :
But miferable Man that I am, faid he, by not falling into
the right Way ! Balbinus asking him what Ways thole were
he fpoke of. Good Sir, fays he, you know (for what is
there, moft learned Sir, that you are ignorant of ? ) That
there are two Ways in this Art, one which is call'd the Lon-
gation, and the other which is call'd the Curtation. But by
my bad Fate, I have fallen upon Longation. Balhinun asking
him, what was the Difference of the Ways-, it would be im-
pudent in me, fays he, to mention this to a Man, to whom
all Things are fo well known, that Nobody knows them
better j therefore I humbly addrefs my felf to you, that you
would take Pity on me, and vouchfafe to communicate to
me that moft happy Way of Curtation. And by how much
the better you underftand this Art, by fo much the lefs La-
bour you will be able to impart it to me : Do not conceal
fo great a Gift from your poor Brother that is ready to die
with Grief, And as you affift me in this, fo may Jefus Chrift
ever enrich you with more fublime Endowments. He thus
making no end of his Solemnity of Obteftations, Balbinus.
was oblig'd to confefs, that he was entirely ignorant of whac
ht^ meanE by Longation and Curtatmt and bids liim explain
T " ' " the
[ ^74 ]
the Meaning of thofe Words -, then he began. Altho' Sir,
fays he, I know I fpeak to a Perfon that is better skill'd
than my (di, yet fince you command me I will do it :
Thofe that have fpcnt their whole Life in this divine Art,
change the Species of Things two V/ays, the one is diorter,
but more hazardous, the other is longer, but fafer. I ac-
count my felf very unhappy, that I have laboured in that
Way that does not fuit my Genius, nor could I yet find
out any Body who would fhew me the other Way that I am
fo pafiionately defirous of ^ but at laft, God has put it into
my Mind to apply my felf to you, a Man of as much Piety
as Learning ; your Learning qualifies you to anfwer my Re-
queil with Eafe, and your Piety will difppfe you to help a
Chriftian Brother, whofe Life is in your Hands. To make
the Matter fhort, when this crafty Fellow, with fuch Ex-
preffions as thefe, had clear'd himfelf from all Sufpicion of
a Defign, and had gain'd Credit, that he underftood one
Way perfedlly well, Balbinus's Mind began to have an Itch
to be meddling. And at laft, when he could hold no longer.
Away with your Methods, fays he, of Curtatiott, the Name
of which I never heard before, I am fo far from underftand--
ing it. Tell me fincerely. Do you throughly under ftand
Longation ? Phoo ! fays he, perfectly well ^ but I don'c
love the Tedioufnefs of it. Then Balbinus asked him, how
much Time it v^ou'd rake up > Too much, fays he ; aimofl:
a whole Year ; but in the mean Time it is the fafefl Way.
Never trouble your felf about that, fays Balhinus, although
it fiiQuld take up two Years, if you can but depend upon
your Art. To fhorten the Story : They came to an Agree-
ment, that the Bufinefs fiiould be fet on f®ot privately in
Balbi'dush Houfc, upon this Condition, that he (hou'd find
Art, and Balbinus Money ; and the Profit fhould be divided
between them', although the Impoftor modellly offered that
Balbinus fliould have the whole Gain. They both took an
Oath of Secrecy, after the manner of thofe that are initiated
into myfterious Secrets ^'-^ and prcfently Money is paid down
for the Artift to buy Pots, Glaffes, Coals, and other Ne-
cefTaries tor furnifiiing the Laboratory : This Money our
Alchymift laviflics away on Whores, Gaming and Drinkin_g.
Thi. This is one Way, however, of changing the Species of
Things. L<2. Balbinus prefling him to fall upon the Bufi-
nefs j he replie ^ Don'c you very well know, that inhat's well
begun is half done ? It is a great Matter to have the Mare-
rials well prepar'd. At laft he begins to fet up the Furnace ;
and here there was occafion for more Gold, as a Bait to catch
more : For as a Fiih is not caught without a Baife fo Alchy-.
mifts
[ '^-75 ]
rnifts muft caft Gold in, before they can fetch Gold out. In
the mean time:, Balhmus was bufy in his Accounts j for he
reckoned thus, if one Ounce made fifteen, what would be
the Product of two thoufand ; for that was the Sum that he
determined to fpend. When the Alchymift had fpent this Mo-
ney and two Months Time, pretending to be wonderfully buly
about the Bellows and the Coals, Balbinus enquired of him,
whether the Bufinefs went forward ? At firft he made no An-
fwer J but at lafb, he urging the Queftion, he made him An-
fwer. As all great Works do j the greatell DiflBcuky of which
K, in entring upon them : He pretended he had made a Miftak'e
in buying the Coals, for he had bought Oaken ones, when
they iTiould have been Beechen or Fir ones. There was a
Hundred Crow-ns gone j and he did not fpare to go to Gaming
again briskly. Upon giving him new Cafli, he gets new
Coals, and then the Bufinefs is begun again with more Refo-
lution than before ; juft as Soldiers do, when they have hap-
pened to meet with a Difafter, they repair it by Bravery.
When the Laboratory had been kept hot for fome Months,
and the golden Fruit was expeiled, and there was not a Grain
of Gold in the Vefifel (for the Chymift had fpent all that too)
another Pretence was found cut. That the GlafTes they ufed,
were not righrly tempered : For, as every Block ijcill not make
a Mercury, fo Gold \v'i\ not be made in any kind of Glafs.
And by how much more Money had been fpent, by fo much
the lorher he was to give it over ; juft as it is with Game*
Iters, as if it were not better to lofe fome than all. La. Very
true. Fhi. The ChymiiT: fwore, he was never fo cheated fince
he v/as born before j but now having found out his Miftake,
he could proceed with all the Security in the World, and fetch
up that Lo{s v^ith great Interefb. The Glaffes being changed,
the Laboratory is furnidied the third Time : Then the Ope-
rator told him, the Operation would go on more fucc^fsfully,
if he fent a Prefent of Crowns to the Virgin Mary, that you
know is worfaipped at Tar is j for it was an holy Act : And
in order to have^it carried on fucceisfully, it needed the Fa-
vour of the Saints, Balhinus liked this Advice v;?onderfuIiy
well, being a very pious Man, that never, let a Day pafs, buc
he performed fome A6t of Devotion or other. The Operator
undertakes the religious Pilgrimage ; but fpends this devoted
Money in a Bawdy-Houfe in the next Town : Then he goes
back, and tells Balbinus that he had great Hope that all would
fucceed according to their Mind, the Virgin Mary feem'd
fo to favour their Endeavours. When he had laboured a
long Time, and not one Crumb of Gold appearing, Bal--
kjms re^foning the Ivlscter with him, he anfwerqd, that no^
f,. T z ' thing
[ ^7^ 1
tiling like this htd ever happened all his Days to him, tho'he
had Co many Times had Experience of his Method ; nor could
he fo much as imagine what ftiould be the Realbn ot this
Failing. After they had beat their Brains a long Time
aboui the Matter, Balbinus bethought himfel*-", whether he
liad any Day mifs'd going to Chapel, or faying the Horary
Trayers, for nothing would fucceed, if thefe w^re omitted.
Says the Impoftor you have hit it. Wretch that I am, I
have been guilty of that once or twice by Forgerfulnefs, and
lately riling from Table, afer a long Dinner, 1 had forgot to
fay the Salutation of the Virgin. Why then, fays Bafbims,
it is no wonder, that a Thing of this Moment lucceeds no
better. The Trickfter undertakes to perform twelve Ser-
vices for two that he had omitted, and to repay ten Saluta-
tions for that one. When Money every now and then fail'd
this extravagant Operator, and he could not find out any Pre-
tence to ask for more, he at laft bethought himfelf of this
Projed. He comes Home like one frighted out of his Wirs,
and in a very mournful Tone cries out, O Balbinus I am ut-
terly undone, undone ^ I am in Danger of my Life. BaL
l>mus was aftoniflhed, and was impatient to know what was
the Matter. The Court, fays he, have gotten an Inkling of
•what we have been about, and I exped nuthing e!fe but
to be carried to Gaol immediately. Balbinus, at The hearing
of this, turn'd pale as Afhes ; for you know it is capital
with us, for any Man to pradife Alchymy without a Licenfe
from the Prince : He goes on. Not, fays he, that I am
afraid of Death my felf, I wi/h that were the worft that
would happen, I fear fomething more cruel. Balhipus ask-
ing him what that was, he reply'd, I (hall be carried away
into fome Caftle, and there be forc'd to work all my
Days, for thofe I have no Mind to ferve. Is there any
Death fo bad as fuch a Life } The Matter was then de-
bated, Balbinus being a Man that very well underftood the
Art of Rhetorick, cafts his Thoughts every way, if this
Mifchief could be prevented any way. Can't you deny
the Crime, fays he } By no Means, fays the other ; the
Matter is known among the Courtiers, and they have fuch
Proof of It that it can't be evaded, and there is no defend-
ing of the Fad ^ for the Law is point-blank againft it.
Many things having been propos'd, but coming to no Con-
clufion, that feem'd feifible ; fays the Alchymift, who wanted
prefent Money, O Balbinus vie apply our fehej to (low Coun-
/els, when the Matter requires a prefent Remedy. It will not
ke lan^ before they will b^ here that viU apprehend me, and
\
t ^77 1
iatfy me a-way into Tribulation : And lafi of all, Teelngj
Balbinus at a Stand, fays the Alchymifl:, I am as much at a
t-,ofs as you, nor do 1 fee any Way left, but to die like a Man,
unlefs you fjall approve niihat I am going to propofe, which is
more profitable than honourable ^ but Necejjtty is a hard Chap-
ter. Tou know the fe fort of Men are hungry after Money, and
Jo may be the more eafly bribed to Secrecy. Although it is a
hard Cafe to give thefe Rafcals Money to throvJ avjay ; but
yet, as the Cafe now fiands, I fee no better Way. Balbinus
was of the fame Opinion, and he lays down thirty Guineas
to bribe them to nufli up the Matter. Vhi. Balbinus was
wonderful liberal, as you tell the Story, l^a. Nay, in an
honeft Caufe, you would fooner have gotten his Teeth out
of his Head than Money. Well, then the Alchytnift was
provided for, who was in no Danger, but that of wanting
Money for his Wench. Vhi. I admire Balbinus could not
ftnoak the Roguery all this while. La. This is the only
Thing that he's foft in, he's as fliarp as a Needle in any thing
elfe. Now the Furnace is fet to work again with new Mo-
ney • but firft, a fhort Prayer is made to the Virgin Mary
to profper their Undertakings. By this Time there had been
a whole Year (pent, firfl one Obftacle being pretended, and
then another, Co that all the Expence and Labour was loft.
In the mean Time there fell out one moft ridiculous Chance.
Thi. What was chat } La. The Alchymiffc had a criminal
Correfpondence with a certain Courtier's Lady : The Hus*
band beginning to be jealous, watch'd him narrowly, and
in the Conclufion, having Intelligence that the Pried was irt
the Bed-Chamber, he comes Home before he was look'd
for, knocks at the Door. Thi. What did he defign to do
to him ? La. What ! Why nothing very good, either kill
him or geld him. When the Husband being very preffing
to come, threatned he would break open the Door, if his
Wife did not open it, they were in bodily Fear within,
and caft about for fome prcfent Refolution :; and Circum-
ftances admitting no better, he pull'd off his Coat, and
threw himfelf out of a narrow Window, but not without both
Danger and Miichief, and fo got away. Such Stories as
thefe you know are foon fpread, and it came to Balbinus'^
Ear, and the Chymift guefs'd it would be fo. ?hi. There wa3
no getting off of this Bufmefs. La. Yes, he got off better
here, than he did out at the Window. Hear the Man's In-
vention : Balbinus faid not a Word to him about the Matter,
but it misht be read in his Countenance, that he was no
Stranger to the Talk of the Town. The Chymift knew
T 3 Balbinus
[ ^78 1
tialbiniis to be a Man of Piery, and in fome Po?nt5, I
was going to fay, fuperflitious, and fuc'n Perfons are very
ready to forgive one that falls under his Crime, let it be
never fo great ; therefore, he on purpofe begins a Talk a-
bout the Succefs of their Bafinefs, complaining, that ic had
not fucceeded as it us'd to do, and as he v/ould have it i
and he wondered gready, what fnould be the Reafon of it :
Upon this Difcourfe, Balbinuh who Teemed ocherwile to have
been bent upon Silence, taking an Occafion, was a little
moved : It is no hard Matter, fays he, to guefs what the
Obflacle is. Sins are the Obflacles that hinder our Suc-
cefs, for pure Works fliould be done by pure Perfons. At
this Word, the Projector fell down on his Knees, and
beating his Breafb with a very mournful Tone, and dejedled
Countenance, fays, O Balbinus, v/hat you have faid is
very true,, it is Sin, it is Sin that has been the Hinderance,
but my Sins, not yoursj for I am not afliani'd to confefs
my Uncleannefs before you, as I would before my molt
holy Father Confeffor: The Frailty of my Flefh overcame?
me, and Satan drew me into his Snares j and O miferable
Wretch that I am! Of a Prieft, lam become an Adulterer j
and yet, the Offering that you fent to the Virgin Mother,
is not wholly loft neither, for I had perilh'd inevitably, if
/he had not helped me; for the Husbacd broke open the
Door upon me, and the Window was too litde for me to
get out at; and in this Pinch of Dinger^ I bethought my
lelf of the bleffed Virgin, and I fell upon my Knees, and
befought her, that if the Gift was acceptable to her, flie
Vv'ould aflifb me , and in a Minute I went to the Window,
(for Neceffity forced me fo to doj and found it large enough
for me to get out at. Fhl. Well, and did BjJbinus believe
all this ? La. Believe it, yes, and pavdon'd him too, and ad-
monilh'd him very religioufly, not to be ungrateful to the
hlejjed Virgin: Nay, there was more Money laid down, upon
his giving his Promife, that he would for the future carry
on the Procefs with Purity. Fbi. Well, what was the End
of all this } La. The Story is very long ; but Pll cut ic
iliort. When he had play'd upon Balbinus long enough Vv'ith
thefe Inventions, and wheedled him out of a confiderable
Sum of Money, a certain Genrieman happen'd to come there*
that had known the Knave from a Child: He eafily imagin-
ing that he was afting the fame Part with Balbinu.Sy that he had
been a^ing every where, admonifhes Balbinus privately, and
acquainted him what fort of a Fellow he harbour'd, advifing
him to get rid of him as foon as polTible, unlefs he had a
mind to have him fometime or other, to rifle his Coffers,
and
C ^79 ]
flrtd then run away. Vhl. Well, what did Balbhws do then?
Sure, he took care to have him lent to Goal ? La. To
Goal ? Nay, he gave him Money to bear his Charges, and
conjur'd him by all that was facred, not to fpeak a Word of"
what had happened between them. And in my Opinion, ir was
his Wifdom fo to do, rather than to be the common laugh-
ing-ftock, and Table-talk, and run the Risk of the Confifca-
tion of his Goods befides ^ for the Impoftor was in no Danger ;
he knew no m.ore of the Matter than an Afs, and cheating is
a fmall Fault in thefe fort ot Cattle. If he had charg'd him
with Theft, his Ordination would have fav'd him from the
Gallows, and no Body would have been at the Charge of
maintaining fuch a Fellow in Prifon, Thi. I fhould pity
Balhiuusj but that he took Pleafure in being gull'd. La. IvnuB:
now make hafte to the Hall ; at another Time I'll tell you
Stories more ridiculous than this. Fhi. When you fliall be
at Leifure, I fhall be glad to hear them, and I'll give you
Story for Story.
T 4 JM
[ iSo ]
The Horfc- Cheat,
The Argument.
^je HoiTc-Cheat lays open the cheating Iricks of thofe
that fell or let out Horfes t& hire ; and Jljews how
thofe Cheats themfehes are fometimes cheated.
AULUS, PHi^DRUS..
GOOD God ! What a gfave Countenance ouf Phadru?
has put on, gaping ever and anon into the Air. I'll at-
tack him. Fh^drus, what News to Day ? Vh. Why do
you ask me that Q^ucftion, Aulas ? Aid. Becaufe, of a Vha'
drus, you fcem to have become a Cato, there is fo much
Sour nefs in your Countenance, fh. That's no Wonder,
my Friend, I am juft come from Confeflion. Aul. Nay,
then my Wonder's over ;, but tell me upon your honeft
Word, did you confefs all } Fh. All that I could remem-
ber, but one. Aul. And why did you referve that one ?"
Th. Becaufe I can't be out of Love with it. Aul. It muft
needs be fome pleafant Sin. Fh. I can't tell Vv'hether it is
a Sin or no j but if you arc at Leifure, you fliall hear
what it is. Aul. I would be glad to bear it, with all my
Heart. Fh. You know what c^hearing Tricks are pky'd h-f
OMX 'jockeys, who fell and let out Horfes, Aul. Yes, I know
more of them than I wifh I did, having been cheated by them
more than once. Fh. I had occafion lately to go a pretty
long Journey, and I was in great Hafte ; I went to one
that you would have faid was none of the worft of 'em,
and there was fome fmall Matter of Friendfliip between us,
I told him I had an urgent Eulinels to do, and had Occa-
fion for a ftrong able Gelding \ detiring, that if be Vv'ould
ever be my Friend in any Thing, he would be fo now. He
promifed rae, that he would uie me as kindly, as if I were '
his own dear Brother. Aid. It may be he would have cheat-
ed his Brother. Fh. He leads me into the Stable, and bids mc
chufe which I would out of them all. At laft I pitch'd upon
one that I lik'd better than the reft. He commends my
Judgments protefting that a great many Perfons had had a
Mind
K
[ ^8« 1
Mind to that Horfe ; but he rcfolved to keep him rather for
a fingular Friend, than fell him to a Stranger. I agreed with
him as to the Price, paid him down his Money, got upon the
Horfe's Back. Upon the firft fetting out, my Steed falls a
prancing j you would have faid he was a Horfe of Mettle ;
he was plump, and in good Cafe : But, by that time I had
rid him an Hour and a half, I perceiv'd be was downright
tir'd, nor could I by fpurring him, get him any farther. I
had heard that fuch Jades had been kept for Cheats, that
yon would take by their Looks to be very good Horfes i
but were worth nothing for Service. I fays to my felf pre-
fently, I am caught. But when I come Home again, I will
Ihew him Trick for Trick. Aul. But what did you do in
this Cafe, being a Horfeman without a Horfe ? ?h. I did
what I was oblig'd to do. I turn'd into the next Village, and
there I fet my Horfe up privately, with an Acquaintance, and
hired another, and profecuted my Journey ; and when I came
back, I return'd my hired Horfe, and finding my own in
very good Cafe, and thoroughly refted, I mounted his Back,
and rid back to the Horfe-Courfer, defiring him to fet him up
for a few Days, till I called for him again. He ask'd me
how well he carry*d me j I fwore by all that was good, that
I never beftrid a better Nag in my Life, thst he flew rather
than walk'd, nor ever tir'd the leaft in the World in all fo
long a Journey, nor was a Hair the leaner for it. I having
made him believe that thefe Things were true, he thought
with himfelf, he had been miftaken in this Horfe j and there-
fore, before I went away, he ask'd me if I would fell the
Horfe. 1 refus'd at firft \ becaufe if I fhould have Occafion
to go fuch another Journey, I fhould not eafily get the Fel-
low of him i but however, 1 valued nothing fo much, but
I would fell it, if I could have a good Price for it, altho*
any Body had a Mind to buy my felf. Aul. This was fight-
ing a Man with his own Weapons. Vh. In fliort, he would
not let me go away, before I had fet a Price upon him. I
rated him at a great deal more than he coft me. Being
gone, I got an Acquaintance to adt for me, and gave him
Inftrudtions how to behave himfelf : He goes to the Houfe,
and calls for the Horfe-Courfer, telling him, that he had
occafion for a very good, and a very hardy Nag. The Horfe-
Courfer ihews him a great many Horfes, ftill commending
the worft moft of all ; but fays not a Word of that Horfe he
had fold me, verily believing he was fuch as I had reprefent-
ed him. My Friend prefently ask'd whether that was not
to be fold ; for I had given him a Defcription of the ,Horfe,
and the Place where he flood. The Horfe-Courfer at
' ' "■ ' firft
t 282 ]
Erft tnade no Anfwer, but commended the reft very highly."
The Gentleman Hk'd the other Horfes pretty well j but al-
ways treated about that very Horfe : At laft thinks the
Horre-Courfer with himfelF, I have certainly been out in my
Jud<:ment as to this HorfC:, if this Stranger could prefenrly
pick this Horfe out of fo many. He infiffcing upon it. Ha
niay be fold, f:ys he ^ but it may be, you'll be frighted ac
the Price. The Price, fays he, is a Cafe of no great Im-
portance, if the Goddnefs of the Thing be anfwerable: Tell
me the Price. He told him fomething more than I had fee
him at to him, getting the Overplus to himfelf. At laft the
Price was agreed on, and a good large Earnefl: was given,
a D'jcat of Gold to bind the Bargain. The Purchafer gives
the Hoitler a Groat, orders him to give his Horfe fome Cornj
and he would come by and by, end fetch him. As foon as
ever I heard the Bargain was made fo firmly, that it could
not be undone again, I go immediately, booted and fpurr'd
to the Horfe-Courfer, and being out of Breath, calls tor my
Horfe. He comes and asks what I wanted: Says I, get my
Horfe ready prefendy, for I muft be gone this Moment,
upon an extraordinary Affair: But, fays he, you bid me keep
the Horfe a few Days : That's true, faid I, but this Bufinels
has happened unexpectedly, and it is the King's Bufinels, and it
will admit of no Delay. Says he, take your Choice, v^hich
you will of all my Horfes ; you cannot have your own, I
ask'd him, why fo ? Becaufe, fays he, he is fold. Then I
pretended to be in a great Paffion ; God forbid, fays I ^ as
this Journey has happen'd, I would not fell him, if any JV'Jan
would offer me four Times his Pi-ice. I fell to wrangling,
and cry out, I am ruin'd : At length he grew a little warm
too : What Occafion is there for all this Contention : You
iet a Price upon your Horfe, and I have fold him ^ if I pay
you your Money, you have nothing more to do to me, we
have Laws in this City, and you can't compel me to produce
the Horfe. When I had clamoured a good while, that he
would either produce the Horfe, or the Man that bought
him : He at laft pays me down the Money in a Paffion. I
had bought him for fifteen Guineas, I fet him to him at
twenty fix, and he had valued him at thirty two, and fo com-
puted with himfelf, I had better make that Profit of him,
than reftore the Horfe. I go away, as if I was vex'd in my
Mind, and fcarcely pacified, tho' the Money was paid me :
He defires me not to take it amifs, he would make me amends
fome other Way : So I bit the Biter : He has a Horfe not
worth a Groat; he expefted that he that had given him the
Earneft, ilxould come and pay him the Money 3 but no Body
came
L ^S3 ]
came^ nor ever will come. Aul. But in the mean Time,
did he never expoftulate the Matter with you ? Thi. VVich
what Face or Colour could he do that ? I have met him
over and over fince, and he complain'd of the Unfairnefs of
the Buyer : But I often reafon'd the Matter with him, and
told him, he deferv'd to be fo ferv'd, who by his hafty Sale
of him, had depriv'd me of my Horfe. This was a Fraud
io well plac'd, in my Opinion, that I could not find in my
Heart to confefs it as a Fault. Aul If 1 had done fuch a
Thing, I fhould have been (o far from confeffing it as a Fault,
that I fhould have requir'd a Statue for it. Th. I can't tell whe-
ther you fpeak as you think or no ; but yoa fet me agog
however, to be paying more of thefe Fellows in their owa
Coin.
•icJ-'
Tlic^
[ 284 ]
The Beggars Dialogue.
The Argument.
Itfje Beggars Dialogue paints out the cheating^ crafty
bricks of Beggars^ who make a Shew of being full
of Sores, and make a Profejjion of Palmijiry, and
ether Arts by which they impofe upon many Perfons.
Nothing is more like KingJIoip, than the Life of a
Beggar.
IRIDES, MISOPONUS.
/R. What new Sort of Bird is this I fee flying here ? I
know the Face, but the Cloaths don't fuit it. If I'm noc
quite miftaken, this is Mifoponui. I'll venture to {peak to him,
as ragged as I am. God fave you, Mifoponus. Mif. Hold
your Tongue, I fay. Ir. What's the Matter, mayn't a Body
falute you ? Mif Not by .that Name. It. Why, what has
happened to you } Are you not the fame Man that you
was ? What, have you changed your Name with your Cloaths ?
Mf. No, but I have taken up my old Name again. Ir,
Who was you then .? Mif. Apitius. Ir. Never be afham'd of
your old Acquaintance, if any Thing of a better Fortune has
happen'd to you. It is not long fince you belong'd to our
Order. MiJ. Prithee, come hither, and I'll tell you the whole
Story. I am noc afliam'd of your Order ; but I am afham'd
of the Order that I was firll of my felf Ir. What Order
do you mean } That of the Francijcans ? Mif. No, by no
Means, my good Friend j but the Order of the Spendthrifts.
Ir. In truth, you have a great many Companions of that Or-
der. Mif I had a good Fortune, I fpent lavifhly, and when
I began to be in want, no Body knew Apitius. I ran away
for Shame, and betook my felf to your College : I lik'd that
better than digging. Ir. Very wifely done; but how comes
your Body to be in fo good Cafe of lace } For as to your
Change of Cloaths, I don't fo much wonder at that. Mif.
Why fo? Ir. BccauferheGoddefsL^i'uerKd' makes many rich
on a fudden. Mif. What! do you think I got an Eftate by
Thieving then ? Ir. Nay, perhaps more idly, by Rapine.
[ ^8i ]
'Mf. No, I fwear by your Goddefs Pe»ia, neither by Thiev-
inty, nor by Rapine. But firft I'll farisfy you as to the State
of my Body^ which feems to you to be the mo'ft admirable.
Jr. For when you were with us, you were all over full of
Sores. iWi/. But I have fince made ufe of a very friendly
fhyfician. Ir. Who ? MiJ. No other Perfon but my felf,
unlefs you think any Body is more friendly to me, than
I am to my felf. Ir. But I never knew you underftood
Phyfick before. JVIif Why all that Dreis was nothing buc
a Cheat I had daub'd on with Paints, Frankincenfe, Brim-
ftone, Rofin, Birdlime, and Clours dipp'd in Blood j and
what I put on, when I pleas'd I took off again. Ir. O
Impoftor ! Nothing appear'd more miferable than you
were. You might have a<Sed the Part of Job in a Tra-
gedy. MiJ. My Neceffity made me do ir, though Fortune
lometimes is apt to change the Skin too. Ir. Well then,
tell me of your Fortune. Have you found a Treafure ?
MiJ. No ; but I have found out a Way of getting Mo-
ney that's a little better than yours. Ir. What could you
get Money our of, that had no Stock } Mif. An Artijh
'will live any luhere. Ir. I underftand you now, you mean
the Art of picking Pockets. Mif Not fo hard upon me,
I pray ; I mean the Art of Chymiftry. Ir. Why 'tis fcarce
above a Fortnight, fince you went away from us, and have
you in than Time learn'd an Art, that others can hardly
learn in many Years .? Mif. But I have got a Ihorter Way.
Ir. Prithee, what Way } Mif When I had gotten almoft
four Guineas by your Art, I happened, as good Luck
would have it, to fall into the Company of an old Com?-
panion of mine, who had manag'd his Matters in the
World no better than I had done. We went to drink to-
gether j he began, as the common Cuftom is, to tell of
his Adventures. I made a Bargain with him to pay his
Reckoning, upon Condition that he fliould faithfully teach
me his Art. He taught it me very honeftly, and now 'tis
my Livelyhood. Ir. Mayn't a Body learn it ? Mif I'll
teach it you for nothing, for old Acquaintance fake. You
know, that there are every where a great many that are
very fond of this Art. Ir. I have heard (o, and 1 believe
it is true. Mif. I take all Opportunities of infinuating my
felf into their Acquaintance, and talk big of my Art, and
where-ever I find an hungry Sea-cob, I throw him out a
Bait. Ir. How do you do that } Mif 1 caution him by
all Means, not rafhly to truft Men of that ProfefTion, for
that they are moft of them Cheats, that by their bo:us ptcut
Tricks, pick the Ppqkqcs of thofe that are not cautious.
ir, Tha^
If. That Prologue is not fie for your Bufinefs. IJif. Nay,
I add this further, that I would not have them believe me
my felf, unlefs they fdW the Matter plainly with their own
Eyes, and felt it with their Hands. Jr. You fpcak of a
wonderful Confidence you have in your Art. Mif. I bid
them be prefent all the while the Metaraorphofis is under
the Operation, and to look on very attentively, and that
they may have the left Reafon to doubt, to perform the
•whole Operation v/ith their own Hands, while 1 frand at a
Diftance, and don't Co much as put my Finger to it. I put
them to refine the melted Matter themfelves, or carry it to
the Refiners to be done ; I tell them before-hand, bow
much Silver or Gold it will afford: And in the lafr Place,
I bid them carry the melted Mafs to feveral Goldfmiths, to
have it try'd by the Touchftone. They find the exadt
Weight that I told them ; they find it to be the fineft Gold
or Silver, it is all one to me which it is, except that the
Experiment in Silver is the lefs chargeable to me. Ir.
But has your Art no Cheat in it ? Mif. It is a mere
Cheat all over. Ir. I can't fee where the Cheat lies. Mif.
I'll make you fee it prefently. I firft make a Bargain for
my Reward, but I won't be paid before I have given a
Proof of the Thing it felf : I give them a little Powder,
as though the whole Bufinefs was effedcd by the Virtue
of that ^ but I never tell them hov/ to m.ake it, except they
purchafe it at a very great Price And I make them take an
Oath, chat for fix Months they fhall not difcover the Se-
cret to any Body living. Ir. But I han't heard the Cheat
yet. Mif The whole Myftery lies in one CoaU that I have
prepared for this Purpofe. I make a Coal hollow, and into
It I pour melted Silver, to the Quantity I tell them before-
hand will be produc'd. And after the Powder is put in,
I fet the Pot in fuch a Manner, that it is cover'd all
over, above, beneath, and Sides, with Coals, and I perfuade
them, that the Art confifts in that ; among thofe Coals that
are laid at Top, I put in one that has the Silver or Gold
in it, that being melted by the Heat of the Fire, falls down
among the other Metal, which melts, as fuppofe Tin or
Braft, and upon the Separation, it is found and taken out.
Ir. A ready Way j but, how do you manage the Fallacy,
when another does it all with his own Hands ? Mif When
he has done every Thing, according to my Dire<fiion, be-
fore the Crucible is ftirr'd, I come and look about, to fee
if nothing has been omitted, and then I fay, that there
feems to v;ant a Coal or two at the Top, and pretending
to take one out of the Coal- Heap, I privately lay en one
of
5
[ a87 ]
'bf tiny own, or have laid it there reaHy befcrre-hand, which
I can take, and no Body know any thing of the Matter. Ir,
But when they try to do this without you, and it does not
lucceed, what Excufe have you to make ? Mif. I'm fafe
enough when I have got my Money. I pretend one Thing
or other, either that the Crucible was crack'd, or the Coals
naught, or the Fire not well tempered. And in the lafl:
Place, one Part of the Myftery of my Prcfeflion is, never
to ftay long in the fame Place. Ir. And is there fo much
Profit in this Art as to maintain you ? Mif Yes, and nobly
too : And I would have you, for the future, if you are wife,
leave off that wretched Trade of Begging, and follow ours.
Ir. Nay, I (liould rather chufe to bring you back to our
Trade. Mf. What, that I fhould voluntarily return again to
that I have efcap'd from, and forfake that vt^hich I have found
profitable ? Ir. This Profeflion of ours has this Property in
it, that it grows pleafant by CuffcoiH. And thence it is, that
tho' many have fallen off from the Order of St. Francis or
St. Benedi^, did you ever know any that had been long in
our Order, quit it ? For you could fcarce tafte the Swcet-
ne{s of Beggary in fo few Months as you foUow'd it. ItTif.
That little Tafte I had of it taught me, that it was t'jemoit
wretched Life in Nature. Ir. Why does no Body quit it
then } Mtf. Perhaps, becaufe they are naturally wretched.
Ir. I would not change this Wretchednefs, for the Fortune
of a King. For there is nothing more like a King, than
the Life of a Beggar. Mif. What fl-range Srory do I hear ?'
Is nothing more like Snow than a Coal } Ir. Wherein con-
(ids the greateft Happinefs of Kings ? Mi/. BecauP^ in that
they can do what they pleafe. Ir. As for that Liberty, than
which nothing is fleeter, we have more of it than any King
upon Earth ; and I don't doubt, but there are many Kings
that envy us Beggars. Let there be War or Peace we live
fecure, we are not prefs'd for Soldiers, nor put upon Parilli-
OlSces, nor taxed. When the People are loaded with Taxes
there's no Scrutiny into our Way of Living. If v^e com-
mit any Thing that is illegal, who wilil fi^e a Beggar ? If we
beat a Man, he will be afnara'd to fight with a Beggar ?
Kings can't live at Eafe neither in War or in Peace, and the
greater they are, the greater are their Fears. The common
People are afraid to offend us, out of a certain fort of Re-
verence, as being confecrated to God. Mif B'Jt then, how
nafty are ye in your Rags and Kennels ? Ir. What do they
fignify to real Happinefs. Thofe things you fpcak of are
put of a Man. We owe our Hsppinsfs to tiiefe Ra^s.
'Mf. But I am afraid a good Part of your Happinefi will
fail you in a (hort Time. Jr. How fo ? MJ: Becaufe I
have heard a Talk in the Cities, that there will be a Law,
that Mendicants (han't be allow'd to ftroil about at their Plea-
fore, but every Qty (hall maintain its own Poor ; and that
they that are able (hall be made to work. Jr. What Rea-
fon have they for this ? Mf. Becau(e they find great Rogue-
ries committed under Pretence of Begging, and that there
are great Inconveniencies arife to the Publick from your Or-
der. Jr. Ay* I bave heard thefe Stories Time after Time,
s^nd they'll bring it about when the Devil's blind. Mf. Per-
haps fooner than you'd have it.
The
if*^^
rhif FABULOUS FEAST,
The ARGUMENt.
the fabulom Teafl contains various Stories and pleafant Tales,
Maccus puts a Trick upon a Shoemaker. A 'Fruiterer is
put upon about her Figs. A very clever Chejzt of a Friefiy
in relation to Money. Lewis the Eleventh, King of France,
teats fovie of n Country -man^s Turnips, and gives him looo
Crovjns for an extraordinary large one that hs made a Pre-
fent of to him. A certain Man takes a Loufe oifof the
Kin^s Garvie7it, and the King gives him ^0 Croirns for
it. The Courtiers are trick' d. One asks for an Office, or
fome publick Employment. To d?vy a Ki-adnefs prefentlyy
is to befiovo a Benefit. Maximilian vjas very merciful to
his Debtors. An old Priefi cheats an Ujurer. Anthony
falutes one iipon letting a Fart, faying the Backfide vjas the
cleanefi part of the Body.
POLYMYTHUS, GELASINUS, EUTRA-
PELUS, ASTiEUS, P H I L Y T H L U S,
PHILOGELOS, EUGLOTTUS5 LERO-
CHARES, ADOLESCHES.
Vol. A S it is unfitting for a well ordered City to be without
-"• Laws and without a Governor ; fo neither ought a
Feaft to be without Orders and a Prefident. Gel. If I may
fpeak for the reft, I like it very well. Fo. Soho, Sirrah !
bring hither the Dice, the Matter fhall be determin'd by
their Votes ; he ihall be our Prefident that Jupiter fhall fa-
vour. O brave ! Eutrapelus has it, the fitteft Man that
could be chofen, if we had every individual Man of us thrown.
There is an ufual Proverb, that has more Truth in'r than
good Latin, Novus Rex nova Lex, Neiv Lords nevj Laius,
Therefore, King, make thou Laws. Eut. That this may be a
merry and happy Banquet, in the firft place I command,
that no Man tell a Story but what is a ridiculous one. He
that fhall have no Story to tell, fhall pay a Groat, to be fpcnt
in Wine j and Stories invented extempore fliall be allow'd
U us
as legitimate, provided regard be had to Probability and De-
cency. If no body fhall want a Story, let thofe two that tell,
the one the pleafanteft, and the other the dulleft, pay for
Wine. Let the Mafter of the Feaft be at no Charge for Wine,
biit only for the Provifions of the Feaft. If any Difference
about mis matter fhall happen, let Gelafinus be Judge.
If you agree to thefe Conditions, let -'em be ratified. He
that won't obferve the Orders, let him be gone, but with
liberty to come again to a Collation the next Day. We
give our Votes for the pafling the Bill our King has brought
in. But who muft tell the firft Story? Eu. Who fhould, but
the Mafter of the Feaft? Af. But, Mr. King, may I have the
liberty to fpeak three Words ? Eut. What, do you take the
Feaft to be an unlucky one ? Af. The Lawyers deny that to
be Law that is not juft. Eut. I grant it. Af.Yonx Lawmaker
the beft and worft Stories equal. Eut. Where Diverfion is the
thing aim'dar, there he dcferves as much Commendation who
tells the worft, as he that tells the beft Story, becaufe it af-
fords as much Merriment ^ as amongft Songfters none are ad-
mir'd but they that fing very well, or tliey that fing very
ill. Do not mere laugh to hear the Cuckoo than to hear the
Nightingal ? In this Cafe Mediocrity is not praife-worthy.
Af. But pray, why muft they be punifh'd, that carry off the
Prixe ? Eut. Left their too great Felicity lliould expofe them
to Envy, if they fliould carry away the Prize, and go fhot-
free too. Af. By Bacchus-, [i] Minos himfelf never made a
jufter Law. Phily. Do you make no Order as to the Method
of Drinking? Eut. Having con Qder'd the Matter, I will fol-
low the Example of Agcfilaus King of the Lacedamonians.
Phily. What did he do ? Eut. Upon a certain time, he be-
ing by Lot chofen Mafter of the Feaft, when the Marfhal of
the Hall ask'd him, how much Wine he fhould fet before
every Man ? If, fays he, you have a great deal of Wine, let
every Man have as much as he calls for, but if you're fcarce
of Wine, give every Man equally alike. Phily. What did
the L,acedar,io)na7i mean by that ? Eut. He did this, that it
might neither be a drunken Feaft, nor a querulous one.
Phily. Why fo ? ^ut. Becau'e fome love to drink plenti-
fully, and fome fparingly, and fome drink no Wine at all ;
flich ari one llomulus is laid to have been. For if no body
has any Wine but what he asks for, in the firft place no
body is compeli'd to drink, and there is no want to them
[i] Mino.', a King of Crete, whom the Poets feign to have been made
King of Che inferior Regions, becaufe of hisjwfticc.
that
[ ^91 ]
Aat love to drink more plentifully. And To it comes to pifS
that no body is melancholy at the Table. And again, if of
a lefs quantity of Wine every one has an equal Portion, they
that drink moderately have enough ; nor can any body com-
plain in an EquaUty, and they that would have drank more
largely, are contentedly temperate. But. If you like it, this
is the Example I would imitate, for I would have this Feaft
to be a fabulous, but not a drunken one. Fhily. But what
did 'Romulus drink then ? 'Eut. The fame that Dogs drink.
Vhtly. Was not that unbefeeming a King ? But. No more
than it is unfeemly for a King to draw the fame Air that Dogs
do, unlefs there is this Difference, that a King does not
<3rink the very fame Water that a Dog drank, but a Dog
draws in the very fame Air that the King breaih'd out i
and on the contrary, the King draws in the very fame
Air that the Dog breath'd out. It would have b;en
much more to Alexander'^ Glory, if he had drank with
the Dogs. For there is nothing woife for a King, who
has the Care of fo many thoufand Perfons, than Drunken nefs.
But the Apothegm that Romulus very wittily made ufe of^
fhews plainly that he was no Wine-drinker. For when a cer-
tain Perfon, taking notice of his abftaining from Wine, fiid to
him, that Wine would be very cheap, if all Men drank as he
did ; nay, fays he, in my opinion it would be very dear, if
all Men drank it as I drink \ for I drink as much as I pleafe.
Gel. I wifh our Johii Botzemus:, the Canon of ConfiancSj was
here i he'd look like another Romulus to us : For he is as
abftemious, as he is reported to have been ; but neverthelefs,
he is a good-humour'd, facetious Companion. Fo. But come
on, if you can, I won't fay [i] drink and blow, which P/^zw-
tus fays is a hard matter to do, but if you can eat and hear
at one and the fame time, Vv^hich is a very eafy matter, I'll
begin the Exercife of telling Stories, and aufpicioufly. If the
Story be not a pleafant one, remember 'tis a Dutch one. I
fuppofe fome of you have heard of the Name of Maccus .?
Gel. Yes, he has not been dead long. Po. He coming once to
the City of 'Leiden., and being a Stranger there, had a mind
to make himfelf taken notice of for an arch Trick ; (for that
was his Humour) he goes into a Shoemaker's Shop, and
falutes him. The Shoemaker, defirous to fell his Ware, asks
him what he would buy : Maccus fetting his Eyes upon a
pair of Boots that hung up there, the Shoemaker ask'd him
if he'd buy any Boots j Maccus afTenting to it, he looks out
a pair thatwouM fit him, and wb^n behad<T)nnd 'em brings
~ ■ ■ r - ■ _ ■ I II
£i] Sorbere (£ flare, is a. proverbial Spsecia denoting Impolfibility.
U 2 'era
'em out very readily, and, as the ufual way is, draws 'em on.
Maccus being very well fitted with a pair or Boots, How well,
fays he, would a pair of double foal'd Shoes agree with thefe
Boots ? The Shoemaker asks him, if he would have a pair of
Shoes too. He afTents, a pair is look'd out prefently and put
on. Maccus commends the Boots, commends the Shoes.
The Shoemaker glad in his mind to hear him talk fo, feconds
him as he commended 'em, hoping to get a better Price,
fmce the Cuftomer lik'd his Goods fo well. And by this time
they were grown a little familiar i then fays Maccus j Tell me
upon your word, whether it never was your hap, when you
had fitted a Man with Boots and Shoes, as you have me, to
have him go away without paying for 'em ? No, never in all
my Life, fays he. But, fays Maccus^ if fuch a thing fhould
happen to you, what would you do in the cafe ? Why, quoth
the Shoemaker, I'd run after him. Then fays Maccus^ but
are you in jeft or in earneft ? In earneft, fays the other, and
I'd do it in earneft too. Says Maccus^ I'll try 'whether you
imU or no. See I run for the Shoes, and you're to follow me,
and out he runs in a Minute ; the Shoemaker follows him
immediately as faft as ever he could run, crying out. Stop
Thief, ftop Thief; this Noife brings the People out of their
Houfes: Maccus laughing, hinders them from laying hold
of him by this Device, Don't ftop me, fays he, we are running
a Race for a Wager of a pot of Ale ; and fo they all ftood
ftiU and look'd on, thinking the Shoemaker had craftily
made that Out-cry that he might have the opportunity to
get before him. At laft the Shoemaker, being tir'd with
running, gives out, and goes fweating, puffing and blowing
home again : ^o Maccus got the Prize. Ge. Maccus indeed
efcap'd the Shoemaker, but did not efcape the Thief. Va.
Why fo ? Ge. Becaufe he carried the Thief along with him.
To. Perhaps he might not have Money at that time, but paid
for 'em afterwards. Ge. He might have indidted him for a
Robbery. Vo. That was attempted afterwards, but now
the Magiftrates knew Maccus. Ge. What did Maccus iky
for himfelf ? Po. Do you ask what he faid for himfelf, in fo
good a Caufe as this ? The Plaintiff was in more danger
than the Defendant. Ge. How fo ? Fo. Becaufe he arrefted
him in an Aftion of Defamation, and profecuted him upon
the Statute oi Rbeims, which fiys, that he that charges a
Mm with what he can't prove, fliall fuffer the Penalty, which
the Defendant was to fuffer if he had been convifted. He
deny'd that he had meddled with another Man's Goods without
his leave, but that he put 'em upon him, and that there was
no mention made of any thing of a Price i but that he chal-
leng'd
[ ^9S ]
Icng'd the Shoemalcer to run for a Wager, and that he ac-
cepted the Challenge, and that he had no reafon to complain
becaufe he had out-run him. Ge. This Action was pretty
much like that of the Shadow of the Afi. Well, but what
then ? Po. When they had had laughing enough at the Mat-
ter, one of the Judges invites Maccus to Supper, and paid
the Shoemaker his Money. Juft fuch another thing happen'd
at Daventerj when I was a Boy. It was at a time when 'tis
the Fifhmonger's Fair, and the Butchers time to be ftarv*d..
A certain Man ftood at a Fruiterer's Stall, or Oporopolift's, if
you'd have it in Greek. The Woman was a very fat Wo-
man, and he ftar'd very hard upon the Ware (he had to fell.
She, according as the Cuflora is, invites him to have what he
had a mind to,' and perceiving he fet his Eyes upon fome
Figs, Would you pleafe to have Figs, fays fhe ? they are
very fine ones. He gives her a Nod. She asks him how
many pound, Would you have five pound fays fhe > He nods
again i fhe turns him five pound into his Apron. While fhe
is laying by her Scales, he walks off, not in any great hafte, but
very gravely. When flie comes out to take her Money, her
Chap was gone ; fhe follows him, malting more Noife than
Hafte after him. He, taking no notice, goes on ; at laft a
great many getting together at the Woman's Out-cry, he
ftands ftill, pleads his Caufe in the midft of the Multitude :
there was very good Sport, he denies that he bought any
Figs of her, but that fhe gave 'em him freely j if (he had a
mind to have a Trial for it, he would put in an Appearance.
Ge. Well, I'll tell you a Story not much unlike yours, nor
perhaps not much inferior to it, faving it has not (o cele-
brated an Author as Maccus. Fytbagoras divided the Mar-
ket into three forts of Perfons, thofe that went thither to
fell, thofe that went thither to buy j both thefe forts were a
careful fort of People, and therefore unhappy : others came
to fee what was there to be fold, and what was done ,• thefe
only were the happy People, becaufe being free from Care,
they took their Pleafure freely. And this he faid was the
manner that a Philofopher convers'd in this World, as they
do in a Market. But there is a fourth kind of Perfons that
walk about in our Markets, who neither buy nor fell, nor are
idle Spedators of what others do, but lie upon the catch to
Heal what they can. And of this laft fort there are fome
that are wonderful dextrous. You would fwear they, were
born under a lucky Planet. Our Entertainer gave us a Tale
with an Epilogue, I'll give you one with a Prologue to it.
Now you fhaU hear what happen'd lately at Ant<wsTp. An
old Prieft had receiv'd there a pretty handfome Sum of Mo-
U 3 ney,
[ ^5>4 ]
hey, but it was in Silver. A Sharper has his Eye upon him ;
he goes to the Prieft, who had put his Money in a large Bag in
his CafTock, where it boug'd out ^ he falutes him very civilly,
and tells him that he had Orders to buy a Surplice, which is
the chief Veftment us'd in performing Divine Service, for the
Priefl: ot his Parilli j he intreats him to lend him a little Affift-
ance in this Matter, and to go with him to thofe that fell fuch
Attire, that he might fit one according to his Size, becaufe he
was much about the fame Stature with the Parfon ot his Pa-
rifh. This bein^ but a fmall Kindnefs, the old Prieft promifes
to do it very readily. They go to a certain Shop, a Surplice
is fhew'd 'em, the old Prieft puts it on, the Seller fays, it
fits him as exadly as if made for hhn ; the Sharper viewing
the old Prieft before and behind, likes the Surplice very well,
but only found fault that it was too fliort before. The
Seller, left he fhould lofe his Cuftomer, fays, that was not
the Fault of the Surplice, but that the Bag of Money that
ftuck out, made it look fhorter there. To be fliort, the old
Prieft lays his Bag down ; then they vieW' it over again, and
while the old Prieft ftands with his Back towards it, the
Sharper catches it up, and runs away as faft as he could :
The rrieft runs after him in the Surplice as he was, and the
Shop-keeper after the Prieft ; the old Prieft cries out. Stop
Thief j the Salefman cries out, Stop the Prieft :; the Sharper
cries out. Stop the in ad Prieft^ and they took him to be
mad, when they faw him run in the open Street in fuch a
Drefs : fo one hindring the other, the Sharper gets clear off.
JEut. Hanging is too good for fuch a Rogue. Ge. It is fo,
if he be not hang'd already. Eut. I would not have him
hang'd only, but all thofe that encourage fach monftrous
Rogues to the Damage of the State. Ge. They don't encourage
'em for nothing ; there's a Feilow-fei^ling between 'em from
the loweft to the higheft. Eut. Well, but let us return to our
Stories again. AJr. It comes to your Turn now, if it be meet
to oblige a King to keep his Turn. Eut. I won't need to be
forc'd to keep my Turn, I'll keep it voluntarily; I fhould be
a Tyrant and not a King, if I refus'd to comply with thofe
Laws I prcfcribe to others. ^/?. But fome 'Folks fay, that
a Prince is above the Law. Eia. That Saying is not akoge-
iher falfe, if by Prince you mean that great Prince who was
call'd Cafar-j and then, if by being above the Law, you
mean, that whereas others do in feme meafure keep
the Laws by Conftraint, he of his own Inclination more ex-
actly obferves them. For a good Prince is that to the Body
Politick, which the Mind is to the Body Natural. What need
was there to have laid a good Prince^ Vv4ien a bad Prince is no
S Prince^
Prince? As an unclean Spirit that pofTefles the human Eody,
is not the Soul of that Body. But to return to my Story j
and I think that as I am King, it becomes me to tell a
kingly Story. Lewis King of Vrance^ the Eleventh of
that Name, when his Affairs were difturb'd at home, took k
Journey to Burgundy -^ and there upon the occafion of a
Hunting, contracted a Familiarity with one Conouj a Country
Farmer, but a plain downright honefl: Man j and Kings de-
light in the Converfation of Rich Men. The King, when he
went a hunting, us'd often to go to his Houfe j and as great
Princes do ifometimes delight themfelvcs with mean Matters,
he us'd to be -mightily pleas'd in eating of his Turnips. Not
long after, Lewis having fettled his Affairs, Qbtain'd the Go-
vernment of the French Nation j Canon's Wife puts him up-
on remembring the King of his old Entertainment at
their Houfe-, bids him go to htm^ and make him a Prefent
of fome rare Turnips. Co7ion at firfl would not hear of ix.-i
faying he fhould lofe his Labour, for that Princes took no no-
tice of fuch fmall matters ; but his Wife over-perf uaded him.
Conon picks out a parcel of choice Turnips, and gets ready
for his Journey ^ but growing hungry by the way, eats 'em all
up but one very large one. When Conon had got Admiffion
into the Hall that the King was to pafs thro', the King knew
him prefently, and fent for him,- and he with a great deal of
Chearfulnefs offers his Prefent, and the King with as much
Readinefs of Mind receives it, commanding one that flood
near him to lay it up very carefully among his greatelt Ra-
rities. He commands Conon to dine with him, and after
Dinner thanks liim j and Cotton being defirous to go back in-
to his own Country, the King orders him looo Crowns for
his Turnip. When the Report of this thing, as it is common,
was fpread abroad thro' die King's Houfhold-Servants, one
of the Courtiers prefents the King with a very fine Horfe ;
the King knowing that it was his Liberality to Conon that
had put him upon this, he hoping to make a great Advan-
tage by it, he accepted it with a great deal of Pleafure, and
calling a Council of his Nobles, began to debate, with what
Prefent he fhould make a Recompence for fo fine and valu-
able a Horfe. In the mean time the Giver of the Horfe be-
gan to be flufhed with Expectation, thinking thus with him-
lelf, If he made fuch a Recompence for a poor Turnip offer'd
him by a Country Farmer, how much more magnificently
will he requite the Prefent of fo fine a Horfe by a Courtier ?
When one anfwer'd one thing, and another another to the
King that was confulting about it, as a matter of great
jMomentj and the defigning Courtier had been for a long
U 4 time
l^9& ]
time kept in Fools Paradife ^ At length, (a.y«! the King, it*$
juft now come inco my mind what return to make him, and
calling one of his Noblemen to him, whilpers him in the
"Ear, bids him go fetch him what he found in his Bedcham-
ber (telling h'm the Place where it lay) choicely wrap'd up
in Silk j the Turnip is brought, and the King with hi^ own
Hand gives it the Courtier, wrap'd up as it was, faying that
he thought he had richly required the Prefent of the Horfe
by fo choice a Rarity, as had coft him looo Crowns. The
Courtier going away, and taking ofFthe Covering, did not find
a Coal inftead of a Treafure, according to the old Proverb,
but a dry Turnip : avd fo the Biter iras bitten^ a-rid foundly
laugh' d at by everybody mto the bargain. AJ Bur, Mr. King,
if youli pleafe to permit me, who am hut a Pe fant, tofpeak
of legal Matters, I'll tell you fomethingthat comes into my
mind, by hearing your Story, concerning the rj.meL?xu;V. For
as one Link of a Chain draws on another, fo one Story draws
on another. A certain Servant feeing a Loufe crawling up-
on the King's Coat, falling upon his i^^iecs and lifting up
his Hand, gives notice, that he had a mind to do fome fort of
Service; Lewis offering himfelf to him, he takes off the
Loufe, and threw it away privately ,* the King asks him
what it' was , he feem'd afhamed to tell him, but the King
urging him, he conf?rj'dit was a Loufe: That's a very good
Sign, fays he, for it fhews me to be a Man, becaufe this fort
of Vermin particularly haunts Mankind, efpecially while
they are young; andorder'd him a Prefeacof 40 Crowns for
his good Service. Some time after, another Perfon (who had
feen how well he came off that had performed fo fmall a Ser-
vice) not confidering that there is a great DlflFerence be-
tween doing a thing fmcerely, and doing it craftily, ap«
proached the King with the like Gefture; and he offering
himfelf to him, he made a fhew of taking fomething off his
Garment, which he prefently threw away. But when the
King was urgent upon him, feeming unwilling to tell what
it was, mimicking abundance of Modefty, he at laft told
him it was a Flea ; the Kin^ perceiving the Fraud, fays to
him. What do you rnake a Dog of me ? and orders him to
be taken away, and inftead of 40 Crowns orders him 40
Stripes. Fhily. I hear it's no good jefting with Kings ^ for
as Lions will fometimes ftand ftill to be ftroaked, are Lions
again when they pleafe, and kill their Play-fellow ; juft fo
Princes play with Men. But I'll tell you a Story not much
unlike yours : not to go off from Lewis., who us'd to take
aplcafurein tricking Trickfters. He had received a Preient
of ten thoufand Crowns from fome Place, and as often as the
Courtiers,
t ^P7 ]
Courtiers know the King has gotten tny frefh Money, all
the Officers are prefently upon the hunt to catch fome pare
of it i this Lewis knew very well, this Money being pour'd
out upon a Table, he, to raife all their Expedtations, thus be-
fpeaks them, What fay you, am not I a very rich King ? Where
fliall I beftow all this Money ? It was prefented to me, and
I think it is meet I (hould make Prefents of it again. Where
are all my Friends, to whom I am indebted for their good
Services ? Now let 'era come before this Money's gone. At
that word a great many came running ; every body hop'd
to get fome of it. The King taking notice of one chat look'd
very wiHifully upon it, and as if he would devour it with his
Eyes, turning to him, fays. Well, Friend, what have you to
fay ? He inform'd the King, that he had for a long time very
faithfully kept the King's Hawks, and been at a great Ex-
pence thereby. One told him one thing, another another,
every one fetting out his Service to the beft Advantage, and
ever and anon lying into the bargain. The King heard 'em
all very patiently, and approved of what they faid. This
Confultation hela a long time, that he might teaze them the
more, by keeping them betwixt Hope and Defpair. Among
the reft ftood the Great Chancellor, for the King had or-
der'd him co be fent for too ^ he, being wif^r than the reft, fays
never a word of his own good Services, but was only a Specta-
tor of the Comedy. At lengih the King turning toward him,
fays. Well, what fays my Chancellor to the matter ? He is
the only Man that asks nothing, and fays never a word of
his good Services. I, fays the Chancellor, have receiv'd
more already from your royal Bounty, than I have deferved.
I am fo far from craving more, that I am not defirous of any
thing fo much, as to behave myfelf worthy of the royal Bounty
I have receiv'd ' Then, fays the King, you are the only Man
of 'em all that does not want Money. Says the Chancellor,
I muft thank your Bounty that I don't. Then he turns to
the others, ana fays, I am the moft magnificent Prince in the
World, that have fuch a wealthy Chancellor. This more in-
flam'd all their Expectations, that the Money would be di-
ftributed among them, fmce he defired none of it. When the
King had play'd upon 'em after this manner a pretty while,
he made the Chancellor take it all up, and carry it home ;
then turning to the reft, who now look'd a little dull upon
it, fays he. You muft ftay till the next Opportunity. PhHog.
Perhaps that I'm going to tell you, will not feem fo en-
tertaining. However, I entreat you that you would noe be
fufpicioas, that I ufe any Deceit or CoUufion, or think that I
have a Defign to denre to be cxcus'd. One came to the fame
^ . Lewisj
[ .p8 ]
"Jjewif, With a Petition that he would bellow upon him an
Office that happen'd to be vacant in the Town where he
liv'd. The King hearing the Petition read, anfwers imme-
diately. You fhall not have itj by that means putting him out
of any future Expedlation ; the Petitioner immediately re-
turns the King Thanks, and goes his way. The King ob-
ferving the Man's Countenance, perceiv'd he was no Block-
head, and thinking perhaps he might have mifunderftood
what he faid, bids him be call'd back again. He came back ;
then fays the King, Did you underftand what I faid to you"?
I did underiland you, quoth he: Why, what did I fay? That
I fhould not have it, faid he. What did you thank me for
then ? Why, fays he, I have fome Bufinefs to do at home,
and therefore it would have been a Trouble to me to have here
danc'd Attendance after a doubtful Hope ; now, I look upon it
a Benefit that you have denied me the Office quickly, and fo
I count myfelf to have gain'd whatfoever I fhould have loft by
Attendance upon it, and gone without it at laft. By this An-
fwer, the King feeing the Man to be no Blockhead, having
ask'd him a few Queftions, fays he. You ffiall have what you
ask'd for, that you may thank me twice , and turning to his
Officers, Let, fays he. Letters patent be made out for this Man
without delay, that he may not be detain'd here to his Detri-
ment. Eugl. I could tell you a Stoiy of Leivh, but I had
rather tell one of our Maximilian, who as he was far frorh
hiding his Money in the Ground, ib he was very generous to
tbofe that had fpent their Eftates, if they were nobly de-
fcended. He being minded to affift a young Gentleman,
that had fallen under thefe Circumftances, fent him on an
ErabaflTy to demand an hundred thoufand Florins of a certain
City, but I know not upon what account. But this was the
Condition of it, that if he by his Dexterity could make any
more of ir, it fliould be his own. The EmbalTador extor-
ted fifty thoufand from 'em, and gave Cafar thirty of 'em.
<:^far being glad to receive more than he expe(5ted, dif-
miffes the Man without asking any Queftions. In the mean
titric the Treafurer and Receivers fraelt the matter, that he
had receiv'd more than he had paid in; they importune
C^far to fend for him ; he being fent for, comes immediately :
Says Maxhnilian., I hear you have receiv'd fifty thoufand.
He confef^'d it. But you have paid in but thirty thoufand.
He confeJi'd that too. Says he. You muft give an Account of
it. He promis'd he would do it, and went away. But
again he doing nothing in it, the Officers preffing the matter,
he was call'd again; then fays Coifar to him, A little while
ago, you were ordered to makeup the Account. Says he, I
remembef
1
remember it, and am ready to do it^ Cafar, imagining
that he had not fettled it, let him go again ; but he thus
eluding the matter, the Officers infifted more preffingly
upon it, crying out, it was a great Affi-ont to play upon
Cafar at this rate. They perfuaded the King to fend for
him, and make him balance the Account before them.
Catfar agrees to it, he is fent for, comes immediately, and
does not refufe to do any thing. Then fays C^far^ Did not
you promife to balance the Account ? Yes, faid he. Well,
fays he, you muft do it here j here are fome to take your
Account j it muft be put off no longer. The Officers fat
by, with Books ready for the purpofe. The young Man
being come to this Pinch, replies very fmartly '-, Mofi m-uiw-
cihle C^far, T don't refufe to give an Account, but am not
very well skilled in thefe fort ot Accounts, never having
given any ; but thefe that fit here are very ready at fuch
Accounts. If I do but once fee how they make up fuch
Accounts, I can very eafily imitate them. I entreat you to
command them but to fhew me an Example, and they (hall
fee I am very docible. C^efar perceived what he meant, but
they, upon whom it was fpoken did not, and fmiling, anfwered
him, you fay true, and what you demand is nothing but what
is reasonable : And fo difmifTed the young Man. For he
intimated that they ufed to bring in fuch Accounts to Cafar
as he had, that is, to keep good part of the Money to them-
felves. Le. Now 'tis time that our Story-telling fhould pafs,
as they fay, from better to worfe, from Kings, to Anthony ^
a Prieft of Lovain^ who was much in favour with Fhilip
furnamed the Gdod: there are a great many things told of this
Man, both merrily faid,. .and wittily done, but moft of them
are fomething flovenly. ^Tor he ufed to feafon many of his
Jokes with a fort of Perfume. that has not a handfome Sound,
but a worfe Scent. I'U pick out one of the cleanelt of 'em.
He had given an Invitation to oae or two merry Fellows that
he had met with by chance as he went along j and when he
comes home, he finds a cold Kitchen , nor had he any
Money in his Pocket, which was no new thing with him ;
here was but little time for Confultation. Away he goes,
and fays nothing, but going into the Kitchen of a certain
Ufurer (that was an intimate Acquaintance, by reafon of
frequent Dealings with him) when the Maid was gone out of
the way, he makes off with one of the Brafs pots, with the
Meat ready boiled, under his Coat, carries it home, gives it
his Cook-Maid, and bids her pour out the Meat and Broth
into another Earthen Pot, and rub the Ufurer's Brafs one till
it was bright. Having done this, he fends his Boy to the
Pawn-
[ 300 1
Pawn-broker to borrow two Groats upon it, but charges him
to take a Note, that fhould be a TeftimonirJ, that fuch a Pot
had been fent him. The Pawn-broker not knowing the Pot
being fcour'd fo bright, takes the Pawn, gives him a Note,
and lays him down the Money, and with that Mone)' the Boy
buys Wine, and fo he provided an Entertainment for him.
By and by, when the Pawn-broker's Dinner was goin.q; to be
taken up, the Pot was miiliug. He fcolds at the Cook-M aid ;
fhe being put hardly to it, affirmed no body had been in
the Kitchen all that Day but Anthony. It feem'd an ill
thing to fufped a Prieft. But however at laft they went to
him, fearch'd the Houfe for the Pot, but no Pot was found.
But in ihort, they charg'd him home with the Pot, becaufe
he was the only Perfon who had been in the Kitchen till the J
Pot was miffing. He confefs'd that he had borrowed a Pot, ^
but that he had fent it home again to him, from whom he
had it. But they denying it ftiffly, and high Words arifing,
Av.thony calling fome Witnefles, Look you, quoth he, how
dangerous a thing it is to have to do with Men now-a-days,
without a Note under their Hands : I ffiould have been in
danger of being indi£ted for Felony, if I had not had the
Pawn-broker's own Hand to fhew. And with that he pro-
<!uces the Note of his Hand. They perceiv'd the Trick, and ,
it made good Sport all the Country over, that the Pawn-broker \
had lent Money upon his own Porridge-pot. Men are com- I
monly very well pleas'd with fuch Tricks, when thsyareput ■
upon fuch as they have no good Opinion of, efpecially fuch
as ufe to impofe upon other Perfons. Adol. In truth, by I
mentioning the Name of Anthony^ you have laid open an \
Ocean of merry Stories ; but I'll tell but one, and a fhort ■
one too, that v/as told me very lately. A certain Com-
pany of jolly Fellov/s, who are for a ffiort Life, and a merry
one, a> they call it, were making merry together ^ among
the reft, there was one Antho7iy-, and another Perfon, a
noted Fellow for an arch Trick, a fecond Anthony. And as
'tis the Cuitom of Philofophers, when they meet together to
propound fome Queftions or other about the things of Nature,
loin this Company a Queftion waspropos'd; Which was the
nioft honourable Part of a Man ? One faid the Eyes, ano-
ther faid the Heart, another faid the Brain, and others faid
other Parts ^ and every one aliedg'dibmeReafon for his Affer-
tion. Anthony was bid to fpeak his Mind, and he gave his
Opinion that the Mouth was the moft honourable, and gave
fome Reafon for'tj I can't tell what. Upon that the other
Perfon, that he might thwart Anthony^ made anfwer that
that was the moft honourable Part that wc lit upon,- and
when
C 301 ]
when every one cryM out, that was abfurd, he back'd it
with this Reafon, that he was commonly accounted the moft
honourable that was firft feated, and that this Honour was
commonly done to the Part that he fpoke of. They ap-
plauded his Opinion, and laughed heartily at it. The Man
was mightily plcas'd with his Wit, and Ajtthony feem'd to
have the worft on't. Anthony turn'd the matter off very
well, faying that he had given the prime Honour to the
Mouth, for no other Reafon, but becaufe h2 knew that the
o±er Man would name fome other Part, if it were but out
of Envy to thwart him : A few Days after, when they were
both invited again to an Entertainment, Anthony going in,
finds his Antagonift, talking with fome other Perfons, while
Supper was getting ready, and turning his Arfe towards him,
lets a great Fart full in his Face. He being in a violent
Paffion, fays to him, Out, you fancy Fellow, where was you
drag'd up. At Hogs Norton ? Then fays Anthony, What, are
you angry ? If I had faluted you with my Mouth, you would
have anfwer'd me again ^ but now I falute you with the moft
honourable Part of the Body, in your own Opinion, you
call me faucy Fellow. And fo Anthony regain'd the Repu-
tation he had loft. We have every one told our Tale.
Now, Mr. Judge, it is your Bulanefs to pafs Sentence. Ge.
Well, I'll do that, but not before every Man has taken off
his Glafs, and I'll lead the ^ay. But talk of the Devil and
he'll appear. Vo. Levinus Panagathus brings no bad
Luck along with him. Lev. Well, pray what Diverlion has
there been among this merry Company ? To. What fhould
we do but tell merry Stories till you come ? Lev. Well then,
I'm come to conclude the Meeting. I defire you all to come
to morrow to eat a Theological Dinner with me. Ge. You
tell us of a melanchoUy Entertainment indeed. Lev. That
will appear. If you don't confefs that it has been more
entertaining than your fabulous one, I'll be content to be
araerc'd a Supper j there is nothing more diverting than to
treat of Trifles in a ferious manner.
The
r 30i 1
STh LTING'IN If^OMAN.
The Argument;
!^ Lymg-in Woman had rather have a Boy than a GirU
Cufiom is a grievous Tyrant. A Woman argues that Jhe is
as good as her Husband. The Dignity of 'em both are
compared. The Tongue is a Woman's beji Weapon. The
Mother herfelf ought to be the Nurfe. She is not the
Mother that bears the Child, but Jhe that nurfes it. The
'very Beafls themselves fuckle their ovjn Young. The Nurfe's
Milk corrupts oftentimes both the Genius and natural
Conftitution of the Infant . The Souls of fame Terfons inhabit
Bodies ill organized. Cato judges it the principal Part of
Felicity, to dwell happily. She is fear ce half a Mother that
refufes to bring up what jhe has brought forth. A Mother
is fo called from ju^ TMf«J'- And in Jhtrt, befdes the
Knowledge of a great many things in Nature^ here are
many that occur in Morality.
EUTRAPELUS, FABULLA:
Eu. TJ Onefl: Fabulla, I am glad to fee you ; I wifli you
■■-* well. Fa. I wifh you well heartily, Eutrapelus. But
what's the matter more than ordinary, that you that come
fo feldom to fee me, are come now ? None of our Family
has feen you this three years. Eu. I'll tell you, as I chanced
to go by the Door, I faw the Knocker (called a Crow) tied
up in a white Cloth, I wondered what was the matter. Fa.
What ! are you fuch a Stranger in this Country, as not to knof/
that that's a Token of a lying-in Woman in that Houfe >
Eu. Why, pray is it not a ftrarige Sight to fee a white Crow ?
But without jefting, I did know very well what was the
matter :, but I could not dream, that you that are fcarce fix-
teen, fhould learn fo early the difficult Art of getting Children,
which fome can fcarce attain before they are thirty. Fa.
As you are Eutrapelus by Name, fo you are by Nature.
Eu. And fo are you too. For Fabulla never wants a Fable.
And while I was in a Quandary, Tolygamus came by juft in
the
[ 303 1
the nick of time." Fa. What he ihat lately buried his tenth
Wife ? Eu. The very fame, but I believe you don't know
that he goes a courting as hotly as if he had lived all his Days
aBatchelor. I ask'd him what was the mattery he told me
that in thisHoufe the Body of a Woman had been diffever'd.
For what great Crime, fays I ? fays he, If what is commonly
reported be true, the Miftrefs of this Houfe attempted to cir-
cumcife her Husband, and with that he went away laughing.
Fa. He's a mere Wag. Eu. I prefently ran in a-doors to
congratalate your fafe Delivery. Fa. Congratulate my fafe
Delivery if you will, Eutrapeluf, you may congratulate my
happy Delivery, when you ihall fee him that I have brought
forth give a Proof of himfelf to be an honeft Man. Eu. In-
deed, my FahulUy you talk very pioufly and rationally. Fa.
Nay, I am no body's Fabulla but Petrowus's. Eu. Indeed
you bear Children iov Fetromus alone, but you don't live for
him alone, I believe. But however, I congratulate you upon
this, that you have got a Boy. Fa. But why do you think ic
better to have a Boy than a Girl ? Eu. Nay, but rather you
Petromus's Fabulla (for now I am afraid to call you mine)
ought to tell me what Reafon you Women have to wifh for
Boys rather than Girls ? Fa. I don't know what other People's
Minds are ; at this time I am glad I have a Boy, becaufe fo
it pleafed God. If it had pleafed him beft I fhould have had
a Girl, it would have pleafed me beft too. Eu. Do you
think God has nothing elfe to do but be a Midwife to Women
in Labour? Fa. Pray, Eutrapelux, what fhould he do elfe,
but preferve by Propagation, what he has founded by Crea-
tion ? E/i. What fhould he do elfe, good Dame ? If he
were not God, he'd never be able to do what he has to do.
Chrifliernus King of Denmark, a religious Favourer of the
Gofpel, is in Exile. Francis j King of France-, is a Sojourner
in Sfain. I can't tell how well he may bear it, but I am
fure he is a Man that deferves better Fortune. Charles
labours v/ith might and main to inlarge the Territories of his
Monarchy. And Ferdinand is mightily taken up about his
Affairs in Ger?nany. And the Courtiers every where are
almoft famiHied with Hunger after Money. The very Far-
mers raife dangerous Commotions, nor are deterred from their
Attempts by fo many Slaughters of Men, that have been made
aheady. The People are for fetting up an Anarchy, and the
Church goes to Ruin with dangerous Factions. Chrift's
feamlefs Coat is rent afunder on all Sides. God's Vineyard
is fpoiled by more Boars than one. The Authority of. the
Clergy with their Tythes, the Dignity of Divines, the Ma-
jefty of Monks k in Danger : Confeffion nod?. Vows fbag-
[ 304 ]
ger, the Pope's Conftitucions go to decay, the Eucharift is
call'd in queftion, and Antichrift is expedted every Day,
and rhe whole World feems to be in travail to bring forth I
know not what Mifchief. In the mean timt the Turks over*
run ail where-e'er they come, and are ready to invade us and
lay all waice, if they luccced in what they are about j and do
you ask what God has elfe to do ? I think he fliould rather fee
to fecure his own Kingdom in time. Fa. Perhaps that
which Men make the greateft account of, feems to God of
no moment. But however, if you wUl, let us let God alone
in this Difcourfe of ours. What is your^Reaibn to think iti«
happier to bear a Boy than a Girl ? It is the Part of a pious
Perfon to think that beft which God, who without Contro-
verly is the beft Judge, has given. Eu. And if God fhould give
you but a Cup made of Cryftal, would you not give himThanks
for it ? Fa. Yes, I would. Eu. But what if he fhould give,
you one of common Glafs, would you give him the lilce
Thanks ? But I'm afraid inftead of comforting you, by this
Difcourfe, I fhould make you uneafy. Fa. Nay, a FabuUa
can be in no danger of being hurt by a Fable. I have Iain
in now almoft a Month, and I am ftrong enough for a Match
at Wreftling. Eu. Why don't you get out of your Bed then ?
Fa. The King has forbid me. Eu. What King ? Fa. Nay
a Tyrant rather. Eu. What Tyrant prithee? Fa. I'll tell
you in one Syllable. {Mos) Cuftom. Eu. Alas! How
many things does that Tyrant exa<ft beyond the Bounds of
Equity ? • But let us go on to talk of our Cryftal and
our common Glafs. Fa. I believe you judge, that a
Male is naturally more excellent and ftrong than a Female.
Eu. I believe they are. Fa. That is Mens Opinion. But
are Men any thing longer-liv'd than Women ? Are they
free from Diftempers ? Eu. No, but in the general they are
ftronger. Fa. But then they themfclves are exceli'd by
Camels in Strength. Eu. But befides, the Male was created
firft. Fa. So was Adam before Chrifi. Artifts ufe to be
moft exquifite in their later Performances. Eu. But God
put the Woman under Subjedion to the Man. Fa. It does
not follow of confequence, that he is the better becaufe he
commands, he fubjeds her as a Wife, and not purely as a
Woman ; and belides that he fo puts the Wife under Sub-
jedion, that tho' they have each of them Power over the
other, he will have the Woman to be obedient to the Man,
not as to the more excellent, but to the moie fierce Perfon.
Tell me, Eutrapelus.^ which is the weaker Perfon, he that
yields to another, or he that is yielded to ? Eu. I'll grant
you that^ if you will explain to me, what Faul meant when
he
[ 30^
he wrote to tbe Corhithlavs^ that Chrifl loas the Head of the
Ma7t, and Man the Head of the Woman ^ and again, when
he faidj that a Man -was the Image and Glory cf God., and
a Woman the Glory of the Man. Fa. Well ! I'll refolve you
that, if you anfwer me this Queftion, Whether or no, it is
given to Men alone, to be the Members of Chrift ? Eu. God
forbid, that is given to all Men and Women too by Faith.
Fa. How comes it about then, that when there is but one
Head, it fhould not be common to ail the Members ? And
befides that, fince God made Man in his own Im-^e, whether
did he exprefs this Image in the Shape of his Body, or the
Endowments of his Mind ? Eu. In the Endowments of his
Mind. Fa. Well, and I pray v/hat h:,ve Men in thefe more
excellent than we have ? In both Sexes, there are many
DrunkennefTes, Brawls, Fightings, Murders, Wars, Rapines,
and Adulteries. Eu. But we Men alone fight for our
Country. Fa. And you Men often defert from your Colours,
and run away like Cowards ,• and it is not always for the
fake of your Country, that you leave your Wives and Chil-
dren, but for the fake of a Httle nafty Pay ; and, worfe than
Fencers at the Bear-garden, you deliver up your Bodies to a
flavifh Neceffity of being killed, or yourfelves killing others.
And now after aU'your Boafting of your warlike Prowefs,
there is none of you all, but if you had once experienced
what it is to bring a Child into the World, would rather
be placed ten times in the Front of a Battle, than undergo
once what we muft fo often. An Army does not always
fight, and when it does, the whole Army is not always
engaged. Such as you are fet in the m.ain Body, others are
kept for Bodies of Referve, and fome are fafely pofbed in
the Rear; and laftly, many fave themfelves by furrendring,
and fome by running away. We are obliged to encounter
Death, Hand to Hand. Eu. I have heard thefe Siories
before now ; but the Queftion is, Whether they are true
or not ? Fa. Too true. Eu. Well then, Fahulla, would
you have me perfuade your Husband never to touch you
more ? For if fo, you'll be fecure from that Danger. Fa.
In truth, there is nothing in the World T am more defirous
of, if you were able to effed it. Eu. If I do perfuade him
to it, what fliall I have for my Pains ? Fa. I'll prefenc
you with half a Score dry'd Neats-Tongues. Eu. I had
rather have them than the Tongues of ten Nightingales.
■ Well, I don't diflike the Condition, but we wori't make the
Bargain obligatory, before we have agr-^ed on rne Articles.
Fa. And if you pleafe, you may add any o.her Article.
. Eft. That fliall be according as you are in the Mind after
X your
t 3o<^ ]
your Month is up- Fa. But why not according as I am in
the mind now ? Eu. Why, I'll tell you, becaufe I am afraid
you will not be in the fame mind then j and fo you would
have double Wages to pay, and I double Work to do, of
perfuading and diffuading him. Fa. Well, let it be as you
will then. But come on, fkew me why the Man is better
than the Woman. Eu. 1 perceive you have a mind to
engage with me in Difcourfe, but I think it more advifeable
to yield to you at this time. At another time I'll attack
you when I have furniflied myfelf with Arguments ,• but not
without a Second neither. For where the Tongue is the
Weapon, that decides the Quarrel j feven Men are fcarce
able to deal with one Woman. Fa. Indeed the Tongue is
a Woman's Weapon j but you Men are not without it nei-
ther, Eu. Perhaps fo, but where is your little Boy } Fa. In
the next Room. Eu. What is he doing there, cooking the
Pot? Fa. You Trifler, he's with his Nurfe E«. What
- Nurfe do you talk of.? Has he any Nurfe but his Mother ?
Fa. Why not ? It is the Fafhion. Eu. You quote the worfl
Author in the World, Fabula, the Fafliionj 'tis the Fafliion
to do amifs, to game, to whore, to cheat, to be drunk, and
to play the Rake. Fa. My Friends would have it fo ; they
were of opinion I ought to favour myfelf, being young. Eu.
But if Nature gives Strength to conceive, it doubtlefs gives
Strength to give Suck too. Fa. That may be. Eu. Prithee
tell me, don't you think Mother is a very pretty Name ?
Fa. Yes, I do. Eu. And if fuch a thing were pofTible,
would you endure it, that another Woman fhould be call'd
the Mother of your Child ? Fa. By no means. Eu. Why
then do you voluntarily make another Woman more than
half the Mother of what you have brought into the World?
Fa. O fy ! Eufrapelusj I don't divide my Son in two, I am
intirely his Mother, and no body in the World elfe. Eu.Na.yy
Fabul/a, in this cafe Nature herfelf blames you to your Face.
Why is the Earth call'd the Mother of all things ? Is it be-
caufe fhe produces only ? Nay, much rather, becaufe fhe
non'-'flies thofe things fhe produces: that which is produced
by Water, is fed by Water. There is not a living Creature
or a Plant that grows on the Face of the Earth, that the
Earth does not feed with its own Moifture. Nor is there
any living Creature that does not feed its own OfT-fpring.
Owls, Lions, and Vipers, feed their own Young, and does
Womankind make her OfT-fpring OfF-cafts ? Pray, what can
be m re cruel than they are, that turn their Off-fpring out
of Doors for Lazinefs, not to fupply them with Food ? Fa.
That you talk of is abominable. Eu. But Womanldnd don't
abomi-
[ 307 ]
abominate it. Is it not a fort of turning out of Doors, to
commit a tender little Infant, yet reaking of the Mother,
breathing the very Air of the Mother, imploring the Mo-
ther's Aid and Help with its Voice, which they fay will
flffeil even a brute Creature, to a Woman perhaps that is
neither wholfom in Body, nor honeft, who has more regard
to a little Wages, than to your Child ? Fa. But they have
made choice of a wholfome, found Woman. Eu. Of this
the Doctors are better Judges than your felf But put the
cafe, fhe is as healthful as your felf, and more too , do you
think there is no Difference between your little tender In-
fant's fucking its natural and familiar Milk, and being che-
rifh'd with Warmth it has been accuftomed to, and its being
forc'd to accuflom itfelf to thofe of a Stranger ? Wheat be-
ing fown in a ftrange Soil, degenerates into Oats or fmall
\Vheat. A Vine being tranfplanted into another Hill, changes
its Nature. A Plant when it is pluck'd from its Parent
Earth, withers, and as it were dies av/ay, and does in a
manner the fame when it is tranfplanted from its Native
Earth. Fa. Nay, but they fay. Plants that have been trans-
planted and grafted, lofe their wild Nature, and produce
better Fruit. Eu. But not as foon as ever they peep out of
the Ground, good Madam. There will come a time, a Grace
of God, when you will fend away your young Son from you
out of Doors, to be accomplifli'd with Learning and undergo
harfli Difcipline, and which indeed is rather the Province of
the Father than of the Mother. But now its tender Age calls
for Indulgence. And befides, whereas the Food, according
as it is, contributes much to the Health and Strength of the
Body, fo more efpecially it is effential to take care, with what
Milk that little, tender, foft Body be feafon'd. For Horace's
Saying takes place here. What is bred in the Bo;;^, nvill never
out of the FlejJj. Fa. 1 don't fo much concern my felf as to
his Body, fo his Mind be but as I would have it. Eu. That
indeed is pioufly fpoken, but not philofophically. Fa. Why
not? E«.Whydo you when you ihred Herbs, complain your
Knife is blunt, and order it to be whetted ? Why do you
reje6t a blunt pointed Needle, when that does not deprive
you of your Art ? Fa» Art is not wanting, but an unfit In-
ftrument hinders the exerting it. Eu. Why do they that
have much occafion to ufe their Eyes, avoid Darnel and
Onions ? Fa. Becaufe they hurt the Sight. Eu. Is it not
the Mind that fees? Fa. It is, for thofe that are dead fee
nothing. But what can a Carpenter do with an Ax v/hofe
Edge is Ipoiied ? Eu. Then you do acknov,'ledge the Body is
X 2 ' tbe
[ 308 ]
the Organ of the Mind. Fa. That's plain. Eu. And you
grant that in a vitiated Body the Mind either cannot aft at
all, or if it does, it is with Inconvenience. Fa. Very likely.
Eu. Well, I find I have an intelligent Perfon to deal with ;
fuppofe the Soul of a Man was to pafs into the Body of a
Cock, would it make the fame Sound it does now ? Fa.
No to be fure. Eu. What would hinder ? Fa. Becaufe it
would want Lips, Teeth, and a Tongue, like to that of a Man.
It has neither the Epiglottis, nor the three Cartilages, that
are moved by three Mufcles, to which Nerves are joined that
come from the Brain ; nor has it Jaws and Teeth Uke a Man's.
Eu. What if it fhould go into the Body of a Swine ? Fa. Then
it would grunt like a Swine. Eu. What if it fhould pafs into
the Body of a Camel ? Fa. It would make a noife Uke a Camel.
Eu. What if it fhould pafs into the Body of an Afs, as it
happened to Apuleius ? Fa. Then I think it would bray as
an Afs does. Eu. Indeed he is a Proof of this, who when
he had a mind to call after Ctefar, having contrafted his
Lips as much as he poffibly could, fcarce pronounced O, but '
could by no means pronounce Cafar. The fame Perfon,
when having heard a Story, and that he might not forget it,
would have written it, reprehended himfelf for his foolifh
Thought, when he beheld his folid Hoofs. Fa. And he had
Caufe enough. Eu. Then it follows that the Soul does not
fee well thro' purblind Eyes. The Ears hear not clearly
when flopped with Filth. The Brain fmells not fo well when
opprefled with Phlegm. And a Member feels not fo much
when it is benumbed. The Tongue taftes lefs, when vitiated
with ill Humours. Fa. Thefe things can't be denied. Eu.
And for no other Caufe, but becaufe the Organ is vitiated.
Fa. I believe the fame. Eu. Nor will you deny, I fuppofe,
that fometimes it is vitiated by Food and Drink. Fa. I'll
grant that too, but what lignifies that to the Goodnefs of the
Mind } Eu. As much as Darnel does to a clear Eye-fight.
Fa. Becaufe it vitiates the Organ. Eu. Well anfwer'd. But
folve me this Difficulty, Why is it that one underftands
quicker than another, and has a better Memory } why one is
more prone to Anger than another ^ or is more moderate in
his Refentment ? Fa. It proceeds from the Difpofition of
the Mind. Eu. That won't do. Whence comes it that one
who was formerly of a very ready Wit, and a retentive Me-
mory, becomes afterwards ftupid and forgetful, either by a
Blow or a Fall, by Sicknefs or old Age } Fa. Now you fcem
to play the Sophifter with me. Eu. Then do you play the
Sopluftrels with me. Fa, I fuppofe you would infer, that as
* the
[ 30^ ]
the Mind fees and hears by the Eyes and Ears, fo by Come
Organs it alfo underftands, remembers, loves, hates, is pro^
yoked and appeas'd. Eu. Right. Fa. But pray what are
thofe Organs, and where are they fituated ? Eu. As to the
Eyes, you fee where they are. Fa. I know well enough
where the Ears, and the Nofe, and the Palate are ; and that
the Body is all over fenfible of the Touch, unlefs when fome
Member is feized with a Numbnefs. Eu. When a Foot is
cut off, yet the Mind underftands. Fa. It does fo, and when
a Hand is cut off too. Eu. APerfon that receives a violent
Blow on theTemples, or hinder-part of his Head, falls down
like one that is dead, and is unfenfible. Fa. I have fome-
times feen that myfelf Eu. Hence it is to be coUedted, that
the Organs of the Will, Underftanding, and Memory, are
placed within the Scull, being not fo crafs as the Eyes and
Ears, and yet are material, in as much as the moft fubtile
Spirits that we have in the Body are corporeal. Fa. And
can they be vitiated with Meat and Drink too.? Eu. Yes.
Fa. The Brain is a great way off from the Stomach. Eu.
And fo is the Funnel of a Chimney from the Fire-hearth,
yet if you fit upon it you'll feel the Smoke. Fa. I fhan't
try that Experiment. Eu, Well, if you won't believe me,
ask the Storks. And fo it is of moment what Spirits, and
what Vapours afcend from the Stomach to the Brain, and
the Organs of the Mind. For if thefc are crude or cold,
they flay in the Stomach. Fa. Pfliaw ! you're defcribing
to me an Alembick, in which we diftil Simple-Waters.
Eu. You don't guefs much amifs. For the Liver, to which
the Gall adheres, is the Fire-place ; the Stomach, the Pan ;
the Scull, the Top of the Still , and if you pleafe, you may call
the Nofe the Pipe of it. And from this Flux, or Reflux of
Humours, almoft all manner of Difeafes proceed, according
as a different Humour falls down after a different Manner,
fometimes into the Eyes, fometimes into the Stomach,
fometimes into the Shoulders, and fometimes into the Neck,
and elfewhere. And that you may underftand me the better,
why have thofe that guzzle a great deal of Wine bad
Memories ? Why are thofe that feed upon light Food, not
of fo heavy a Difpofition? Why does Coriander help the
Memory ? Why does Hellebore purge the Memory } Why-
does a great Expletion caufe an Epilepfy, which at once
brings a Stupor upon all the Senfes, as in a profound Sleep ?
In the laft place, as violent Thirft or Want weaken the
Strength of Wit or Memory in Boys, fo Food eaten immo-
derately makes Boys dull-headed, if we believe Arifiotle j in
that the Fire of tlie Mind is extinguifli'd by the heaping on
X 3 too
[ 3^0 ]
too jnuch Matter. Va. Why then, is the Mind corporeal,
fo as to be affeded with corporeal things ? E». Indeed the
Nature itfelf of the rational Soul is not corrupted j but the
Power and Action of it are impeded by the Organs being
vitiated, as the Art of an Artift will ftand him in no ftead,
if he has not Inftruments. Va. Of what Bulk, and in what
Form is the Mind ? E«. You ask a ridiculous Qiieftion,
what Bulk and Form the Mind is of, when you have allow'd
it to be incorporeal. IBa. I mean the Body that is felt. E«. Nay,
thofe Bodies that are not to be felt are the moft perfed
Bodies, as God and the Angels. Va. I have heard that God
and Angels are Spirits, but we feel the Spirit. Bu. The
Holy Scriptures condefcend to thofe low Expreffions,becaufe
of the Dullnefs of Men, to fignify a Mind pure from all Com-
merce of fenfible Things. Va. Then what is the Difference
between an Angel and a Mind ? Bu. The fame that is be-
tween a Snail and a Cockle, or, if you like the Comparifon
better, a Tortoife. Va. Then the Body is rather the Habita-
tion of the Mind than the Inftrument of it. Ea. There is
no Abfurdi:y in calling an adjundt Inftrument an Habitation.
Philofopliers are divided in their Opinions about this. Some
call the Body the Garment of the Soul, fome the Houfe,
fome the Inftrument, and fome the Harmony i call it by
which of thefe you will, it will follow that the A6tions of the
Mind are impeded by the Affeitions of the Body. In the
firft place, if the Body is to the Mind that which a Garment ,
is to the Body, the Garment ofHer^ra/w informs us how much
a Garment contributes to the Health of the Body, not to take
any notice ok Colours of Hairs or of Skins. But as to thatQye-
ftion, whether one and the fame Soul is capable of wearing
out many Bodies, it fhall be left to Vythagoras. Fa. If, ac-
cording to Vythagoras., we could make ufe of Change of
Bodies, as we do of Apparel, it would be convenient to take
a fat Body, and of a thick Texture, in Winter time, and a
thinner and lighter Body in Summer time. Eu. But I am
of the opinion, that if we wore out our Body at laft as we do
pur Cloaths ; it would not be convenient j for fo having worn
out many Bodies, the Soul itfelf would grow old and die.
Va. It would not truly. Eu. As the fort of Garment that is
worn hath an Influence on the Health and Agility of the Body,
fo it is of great moment what Body the Soul wears. Fa. If
indeed the Body is the Garment of the Soul, I fee a great
many that are drefs'd after a very different manner. Eu.
Rigbf, and yet fome part of this Matter is in our own Power,
bow conveniently our Souls fhall be cloathed. Fa. Come,
have done with the Garment, and fayfomething concerning
• the
I 311 1
the Habitation. Eu. But, Fahula, that what I fay to you
mayn't be thought a Fi6tion, the Lord Je[us calls his Body
a Tempky and the Apoftle Teter calls his a Taber?iack. And
there have been fome that have call'd the Body the Se-
pulchre of the Soul. Suppofmg it was call'd tm^, as tho*
it were oUkm.. Some call it the Prifon of the Mind, and ,
fome the Fortrcfs or fortify'd Caftle. The Minds of Per-
fons that are pure in every Part, dwell in the Temple. They
whofe Minds are not taken up with the Love of corporeal
Things, dwell in a Tent, and are ready to come forth as
foon as the Commander calls. The Soul of thofe that are
not wholly blinded with Vice and Fiithinefs, fo that they
never breathe after the Air of Gofpel Liberty, lies m a Sepul-
chre. But they that wreftle hard with their Vices, and can't
yet be able to do what they would do, their Soul dwells in a
Prifon, whence they frequently cry out to the Deliverer of all,
'Bring my Soul out of Prifo?i, that I may praife thy Naine.
They who fight ftrenuoufly with Satan, watching and guard-
ing againft his Snares, who goes about as a roaring Lion,
feeking nnhom he may devour ; their Soul is as it were in a
Garifon, out of which they muft not go without the Gene-
ral's Leave. Fa. If the Body be the Habitation or Houfe
of tlie Soul, I fee a great many v/hofe Mind is very illy
feated. Eu. It is fo, that is to fay, in Houfes where it
rains in, that are dark, ^ expofed to ail Winds, that are
fmoaky, damp, decay'd, and ruinous, and fuch as are filthy
and infected : and yet Cato accounts it the principal Happi-
nefs of a Man, to dwell handfomly. Fa. It were tolerable,
if there was any paffing out of one Houfe into another. Eu,
There's no going out, before the Landlord calls out. But
tho' we can't go out, yet we may by our Art and Care make
the Habitation of our Mind comm.odious j as in a Houfe the
Windows are changed, the Floor taken up, the Walls are
either plaiftered or wainfeotted, and the Situation may be
purified with Fire or Perfume. But this is a very hard
matter, in an old Body that is near its Ruin. But it is of
great Advantage to the Body of a Child, to take the Care of
it that ought to be taken prefently after its Birth. Fa. You,
would have Mothers and Nurfes to be Doftors. Eu. So in-
deed I would, as to the Choice and moderate Ufe of Meat,
Drink, Motion, Sleep, Baths, Unftions, Fridions, and Cloath-
ings. How many are there, think you, who are expos'd to
grievous Difeafes and Vices, as Epilepfies, Leannefs^Weak-
nefs, Deafnefs, broken Backs, crooked Limbs, a weak Brain,
difturbed Minds, and for no other Reafon than that their
Nurfes have not taken a due care of them ? Fa. I vvondt/T
X 4 you.
[ 31^ ]
you are not rather a Francifcan than a Painter, who preach
To finely. Eu. When you are a Nun of the Order of
St. Clare J then I'll be a Fra?ic'tfca?z^ and preach to you.
Fa. In truth, I would fain know what the Soul is, about
which we hear fo much, and talk of fo often, and no body
has feen. Eu. Nay, every body fees it that has Eyes. Fa.
I fee Souls painted in the Shape of little Infants, but why
do they put Wings to them as they do to Angels ? Eu.
Why, becaufe, if we can give any Credit to the Fables of
Socrates^ their Wings were broken by their falling from
Heaven. Fa. How then are they faid to fly up to Heaven?
Eu. Becaufe Faith and Charity make their Wings grow
again. He that was weary of thisHoufe of his Body, begg'd
for thefe Wings, when he cry'd out. Who will give me the
Wings of a Dove, that I may fly away, and be at reft. Nor
has the Soul any other Wings, being incorporeal, nor any
Form that can be beheld with the Eyes of the Body. But
thofe things that are perceiv'd by the Mind, are more cer-
tain. Do you believe the Bein^ of God.? Fa. Yes, I do.
Eu. But nothing is more invifible than God. Fa. He is
feen in the Works of Creation. Eu. In like manner the Soul
is feen inAdion. If you would know how it a£ts in a living
Body, confider a dead Body. When you fee a Man Fee],
See, Hear, Move, Underfl:and, Remember and Reafon,
you fee the Soul to be in liim with more Certainty than you
fee this Tankard ^ for one Senfe may be deceiv'd, but fo
many Proofs of the Senfes cannot deceive you. Fa. Well
then, if you can't fhew me the Soul, paint it out to me, juft '
as you would the King, whom I never did fee. Eu. I have
jiriftotle's Definition ready for you. Fa. What is it .? for
they fay he was a very good Decypherer of every thing.
Eu. The Soul is the AEi of an Organicalj Fhyfical Bodjy
having Life in Potentia. Fa. Why does he rather call it
an AEi than a Journey or Way ? Eu. Here's no regard either
to Coachmen or Horfemen, but a bare Definition of the
Soul. And he calls the Form-^^, the Nature of which is to
aS^, when it is the Property of Matter to fuffer. For all
natural Motion of the Body proceeds from the Soul. And
the Motion of the Body Is various. Fa. I take that in j but
why does he add of an Organical ? Eu. Becaufe the Soul
does nothing but by the Help of Organs, that is, by the In-
\ ftrumenrs of the Body. Fa. Why does he fay Fhyfical ?
Eu. Bocauk Dadalus made fuch a Body to no purpofe; and
therefore he adds, having Life in Potentia. Form does not
aft upon every thing ; but upon a Body that is capable. Fa.
What if an Angel fbould pafs into the Body of a -Man ?
r 313 ]
Eu. He would a5: indeed, but not by the natural Organs,
nor would he give Life to the Body if the Soul was abfent
from it. Fa. Have I had all the Account that is to be given
of the Soul ? Eu. You have Ariftotlis Account of it. Fa.
' Indeed T have heard he was a very famous Philofopher, and
I am afraid that the College of Sages would prefer a Bill of
Herefy againft me, if I fhould fay any thing againfl: him ;
but elfe all that he has faid concerning the Soul of a Man,
is as applicable to the Soul of an Afs or an Ox. Eu. Nay,
that's true, or to a Beetle or a Snail. Fa. What Difference
then is there between the Soul of an Ox, and that of a Man ?
Eu. They that fay the Soul is nothing elfe but the Har-
mony of the Qualities of the Body, would confefs that there
was no great Difference j and that this Harmony being in-
terrupted, the Souls of both of them do perifh. The Soul
of a Man and an Ox is not diitinguifhed i but that of an Ox
has lefs Knowledge than the Soul of a Man. And there are
fome Men to be feen that have lefs Underftanding than an
Ox. Fa. In truth, they have the Mind of an Ox. Eu. This
indeed concerns you, that according to the Quality of your
Guittar, your Mufick v/iil be the fweeter. Fa. I own it.
Eu. Nor is it of fmall moment of what Wood, and in what
Shape your Guittar is made. Fa. Very true. Eu. Nor are
Fiddle-firings made of the Guts of every Anim.al. Fa. So I
have heard. Eu. They grow flack or tight by the Moiflure
and Drinefs of the circumambient Air, and will fometimes
break. Fa. I have feen that more than once. Eu. On this
account you may do uncommon Service to your little Inf^t,
that his Mind may have an Inflrument well tempered, and
not vitiated, nor relaxed by Sloth, nor fqueaking with Wrath,
nor hoarfe with intemperate drinking. For Education and
Diet oftentimes imprefs us with thefe Affedlions. Fa. I'll
take your Counfel ; but I want to hear how you can defend
Arijtotle. Eu. He indeed in general defcribes the Soul,
Animal, Vegetative, and Senfitive. The Soul gives Life,
but every thing that has Life is not an Animal. For Trees
live, grow old, and die ; but they have no Senfe ; tho' fome
attribute to them a fhipid Sort of Senfe. In things that ad-
here one to another, there is no Senfe to be perceived, but
it is found in a Sponge by thofe that pull it off Hewers
djfcover a Senfe in Timber-trees, i'^^ we may believe them :
For they fay, that if you flrike the Trunk of a Tree that you
defign to hew down, with the Palm of your Hand, as Wood-
mongers ufe to do, it will be harder to cut that Tree down
becaufe it has contraded icfelf with fear. But that which
has Life, aijd Feeling is an Animal. But nothing hinders that
which
wliich does not feel, from being a Vegetable, asMuflirooms;
Beets, and Coleworts. Fa. If they have a fort of Life, a
fort of Senfe, and Motion in their growing, what hinders
but that they may be honoured with the Title of Animals ?
Eu. Why the Antients did not think fit to call them fo, and
we muft not deviate from their Ordinances, nor does it
fignify much as to what we are upon. Fa. But I can't bear
the Thoughts on't, that the Soul of a Beetle and of a Man
fhould be the fame. Eu. Good Madam, it is not the fame,
faving infomeRefpedsj your Soul animates, vegetates, and
renders your Body fenfible ; the Soul of the Beetle animates
his Body : For that fome things ad one way, and fome ano-
ther, that the Soul of a Man ads differently from the Soul
of a Beetle, partly proceeds from the Matter; a Beetle nei-
ther fmgs nor fpeaks, becaufe it wants Organs fit for thefe
Adions. Fa. Why then you fay, that if the Soul of a
Beetle fhould pals into the Body of a Man, it would ad as
the human Soul does. Eu. Nay, I fay not, if it were an
angelical Soul : And there is no Difference between an An-
gel and a human Soul, but that the Soul of a Man was
formed to ad a human Body compos'd of natural Organs;
and as the Soul of a Beetle will move nothing but the Bgdy
of a Beetle, an Angel was not made to animate a Body, but
to be capable to underfland without bodily Organs. Fa. Can
the Soul do the fame thing ? Eu. It can indeed, when it is
feparated from the Body ? Fa. Is it not at its own Difpofal,
while it is in the Body ? Eu. No indeed, except fomething
happen befide the common Courfe of Nature. Fa. In truth,
inftead of one Soul you have given me a great many ; an
•animal, a vegetative, a fenfitive, an intelligent, a remem-
bring, a willing, an angry, and defiring : One was enough
for me. Eu. There are different Adions of the fame Soul,
and thefe have different Names. Fa. I don't well under-
ftand you. Eu. Well then, I'll make you underftand me:
You are a Wife in the Bed-Chamber, in your Work-fhop a
Weaver of Hangings, in your Warehoufe a Seller of them,
in your Kitchen a Cook, among your Servants a Miflrefs,
and among your Children a Mother,- and yet you are all
thefe in the fame Houfe. Fa. You philofophize very blunt-
ly. Is then the Soul fo in the Body as I am in my Houfe ?
Eu. It is. Fa. But while I. am weaving in my XVork-fhop,
I am not cooking in my Kitchen. Eu. Nor are you all
Soul, but a Soul carrying about a Body, and the Body can't
be in many Places at the fame time ; but the Soul being a
fimple Form, is fo in the whole Body, tho' it does not ad the
fame in all Parts of the Body, nor after the fame Manner,
how '
how differently afFefted foever they are : For it underilands
and remembers in the Brain, it is angry in the Heart, it
lufts in the Liver, it hears with the Ears, fees with the Eyes,
fraells with the Nofe, it tafles in the Palate and Tongue,
and feels in all the Parts of the Body which are adjoined to
any Nervous Part : But it does not feel in the Hair, nor the
Ends of the Nails j neither do the Lungs feel of themfelves,
nor the Liver, nor perhaps the Mik neither. Fa. So that ia
certain Parts of the Body it only animates and vegetates.
Eu. It fliould feem fo. Fa. If one and the fame Soul does
all thefe things in one and the fame Man, it follows of con-
fequence, that the F(etus in the Womb of the Mother, both
feels and underilands, as foon as it begins to grow j which is
a Sign of Life, unlefs a Man in his Form.ation has more
Souls than one, and afterwards the refb giving Place, one
adls all. So that at firft a Man is a Plant, then an Animal,
and laftly a Man. Eu. Perhaps Ariftotle would not tliink
what you fay abfurd : I think it is more probable, that the
rational Soul is infus'd with the Life, and that like a little
Fire that is buried as it were under too great a Quantity of
green Wood, it cannot exert its Power. F^?. Why then is the
Soul bound to the Body that it ads and moves ? Eu. No
otherwife than a Tortoife is bound or tied to the Shell that
he carries about. Fa. He does move it indeed ^ but fo at
the fame' time that he moves himfelf too : As a Pilot fteers
a Ship, turning it which way he v/ill, and is at the fame
time mov'd with it. Eu. Ay, and as a Squirrel turns his
Wheel-Cage about to make the Belh ringy and is himfelf
carried about with it. Fa. And fo the Soul affeds the Bo-
dy, and is afFe6ted by the Body, Eu. Yes indeed, as to its
Operations. Fa. Why then, as to the Nature oi it, the Soul
of a Fool is equal to the Soul of Solomon. Eu. There's no
Abfardity in that. Fa. And fo the Angels are equal, in as
much as they are without Matter, which, you fay, is that
which makes the Iriequalicy. Eu. We have had Philofo-
phy enough: Let Divines puzzle themfelves about thefe
things i let us difcourfe of thofe Matters that were firft men-
tioned. If you would be a compleat Mother, take care of
the Body of your little Infant, fo that after the little Fire of
the Mind has difengaged itfelf from the Vapours, it may
have found and fit Organs to make ufe of As often as you
hear your Child crying, think this with your felf, he calls
for this from me. When you look upon your Breaft? , thofc
two little Fountains, turgid, and of their own accord frream-
ing out a milky Juice, remember Nature puts you in niind
of your Duty : Or elfe, when your Infant /hall begin to
Ipeakj
fpeak, and with his pretty Stammering; fhall call you Mam^
my J How can you hear it without b'uming ? when you have
refas'd ro let him have it, and turn d him pfF to a hireling
Nipple, as if you had committed him ro a Goat or a Sheep.
When he is able to fpeak, what if, inftead of calling you
Mother, he fhould call you Half-Mother ? I fuppofe you
v/ould whip him : Altho' indeed fhe is fcarce Half-a- Mother
tha' refufes ro feed what flie has brought in:o the World.
The Nourifhing of the tender Babe is the beft part of Ge-
niture: For he is not only fed by the Milk, but with the
Fragrancy of the Body of the Mother. He requires the
fame natural, familiar, accuftomed Moifture, that he drew
in when in her Body, and by which he received his Coali-
tion. And I am of that Opinion, that the Genius of Chil-
dren are vitiated by the Nature of the Milk they fuck, as
the Juices of the Earth change the Nature of thofe Plants
and Fruits that it feeds. Do you think there is no Foun-
dation in Reafon for this Saying, He fucked in this ill Hu-
mour ivith the Nurfes Milk ? Nor do I think the Greeks
fpoke without Reafon, when they faid like Nurfes, when
they would intimate that any one was ftarved at Nurfe : For
they put a little of what they chew into the Child's Mouth,
but the. greateft part goes down their own Throats. And in-
deed fhe can hardly properly be faid to bear a Child, that
throws it away afToon as fhe has brought it forth j fhat is to
mifcarry, and :he Greek Etymology of Mmf from fMi "n^eiVi ie.
from not loo'cing after, feems very well to fuit fuch Mothers.
For it is a fort of turning a little Infant out of Doors, to put it
to a h reling Nurfe^ wliile it is yet warm from the Mother.
Fa. I would come over to your Opinion, unlefs fuch a Wo-
man were chofen, againft whom there is nothing to be ob-
jeded. Fu. Suppofe it were of no moment what Milk the
little Infant fuck'd, what Spittle it fwallow'd with its chew'd
Viduals i and you had fuch a Nurfe, that I queftion whe-
ther there is fuch an one to be found j do you think there
is any one in the World will go through all the Fatigue of
Nurfmg as the Mother her felf j the Bewrayings, the Sit-
ting up a Nights, the Crying, the Sicknefs, and the diligent
Care in looking after it, which can fcarce be enough. If
there can be one that loves lilce the Mother, then fhe will
take care like a Mother. And be fides, this will be the Ef-
fed of it, that your Son. won't love you fo heartily, that
native AfFedion being as it were divided between two Mo-
thers ', nor will you have the fame AfFedion for your Son :
So that when he is grown up, he will neither be fo obedient
to youj nor will you have the fame Regard for him, perhaps
per-
1 317 ]
perceiving in him the Difpolition of his Nurfe. The prin-
cipal Step to Advancement in Learning, is the mutual Love
between the Teacher and Scholar : So that if he does not
lofe any thing of the Fragrancy of his native good Temper,
you will with the greater Eafe be able to inftil into him the
rrecepts of a good Life. And a Mother can do much in
this Matter, in that fhe has pliable Matter to work upon,
that is eafy to be carried any way. Fa. I find it is not fo
cafy a thing to be a Mother, as it is generally looked upon
to be. Eu. If you can't depend upon what I fay, St. Paul^
fpeaking very plainly of Women, fays. She Jhall be faved in
child-bearing. Fa. Are all the Women faved that bear
Children "? Eu. No, he adds, // fJ?e continue in the Faith.
You have not performed the Duty of a Mother before you
have firft formed the little tender Body of your Son, and
after that his Mind, equally foft, by a good Education. Fa.
But it is not in the Power of the Mother that the Children
fhould perfevere in Piety. Eu. Perhaps it may not; but a
careful Admonition is of that Moment, that Taul accounts it
imputable to Mothers, if the Children degenerate from Piety.
But in the laft Place, if you do v/hat is in your Power, God
will add his Afliftance to your Diligence. Fa. Indeed Eu-
trapelus., your Difcourfe has perfuaded me, if you can but
perfuade my Parents and my Husband. Eu. Weil, I'll take
that upon me, if you will but lend your helping Hand. Fa.
I promife you I will. Eu. But mayn't a Body fee this little
Boy } Fa. Yes, that you may and welcome. Do you hear,
Syrifca.) bid the Nurfe bring the Child. Eu. 'Tis a very
pretty Boy. It is a common Saying, there ought to be Grains
of Allowance given to the firft Effay : But you upon the firil
Trial have fhcwn the very higheft Pitch of Art. Fa. Why,
it is not a Piece of carved Work, that fo much Art fliould
be required. Eu. That's true ; but it is a Piece of caft Work.
Well, let that be how it will, it is well performed. [ wilii
you could make as good Figures in the Hangings that you
weave. Fa. But you on the contrary paint better than you
beget. Eu. It fo feems meet to Nature, to ad equally by
all. How folicitous is Nature, that nothmg fliould be loft !
It has reprefented two Perfons in one j here's theNofe and
Eyes of the Father, the Forehead and Chin of the Mother.
Can you find in your Heart toemraft this dear Pledge to the
Fidelity of a Stranger ? I think thofe to be doubly cruel that
can find in their Hearts fo to do ; becaufe in doing; fo, rhev
do not only do this to the Hazard of the Child; but afo of
themfelves too ; becaufe in the Child, the fpoiling of the
Miik oftentimes brings dangerous Difeafes, and fo it comes
about>
[318]
about, that while Care is taken to preferve the Shape of
one Body, the Lives of two Bodies are not regarded j and
while they provide againft old Age coming on too early,
they throw themfelves into a too early Death. What's the
Boy's Name ? Fa. Cornelius. Eu. That's the Name of his
Grand-father by the Father's Side. I \yifh he may imitate
him in his unbleraiihed Life and good Manners. Fa. We
will do our Endeavour what in us lies. But, hark ye, Eutra-
^elus, here is one thing [ would earneftly entreat of you.
Eu. I am entirely at your Service j command what you will,
I will undertake it. Fa. Well then, I won't difcharge you
till you have finifhed the good Service that you have begun.
Eu. What's that ? Fa. Firft of all, to give me Inftrudions
how I may manage my Infant, as to his Health, and when
he is grown up, how I may form his Mind with pious Prin-
ciples. Eu. That I will readily do another time, according
to my Ability j but that muit be at our next Converfation :
I will now go and prevail upon your Husband and Parents.
Fa. I wiih you may fucceed.
'nt
[ 31? 1
'J^l
C^\
^he Religious pilgrimage.
The Argument.
lome full of Superfiition. He had patd aVzfit to St.Jzmes
^Compoftella, hi, Wife ^nd Mother4n-l^ ha^tngohbged
him to make a Fotv fo to do. At thatTtme People began
to be more cold, as to the rvorfiippi^^g of Saints : For -whch
Caufe the Virgin Mary 'OJrites an Epifile full of Complamts,
vf their Worlhip being negleBed. A Miracle of a Kmght
that 'was faved by the Help of the Virgin ^^'Y^h%%"'
ing a little Wicket through 'which he entred Of the Vir^
gin's Milk. St. Bernard is feigned to have fuckd the fame
Fap of the Virgin Mary, that the Child Jefus dtd. A
nerw Sort of Je'wel caWd the Toad-Stone : The -various Na-
tures of Je'wels. The Tomb of Thomas Becket ^? Canter-
bury. He falls foul on the prodigious Magnificence, Luxury
and Wealth of Churches, and reprehends the Manners and
Impieties of Sailors. The Abfurdity of Kijfmg the Reltquef
cf Saints, as Shoes, Slippers, &c.^ Saints are compared t a
Sheep.
MENEDEMUS, OGYGIUS:
'^efe TI/HAT Novelty is this? Don't I fee my old Neigh-
»» bour Ogygius, that no body, has fet their Eyes on
this fix Months ? There was a Report he was dead. It is
he, or I'm mightUy miftaken. I'll go up to him, arid give
' him his Welcome. Welcome 0^/gi«f. Ogy. And well met,
. Menedemus. Men. From what Part of the World came you ?
For here was a melanchoUy Report that you had taken a
Voya<ye to the Stygian Shades. Ogy. Nay, I thank God, 1
never was better in all my Life, than I have been ever fince
I faw you laft. Men. And may you live always to confute
fuch vain Reports : But what ftrange Drefs is this ? ^ It is
all over fet off with Shells fcollop'd, full of Images orLead
and Tin, and Chains, of Straw-work, and the Cufts are
adorned with Snakes Eggs inftead of Bracelets Ogy. I have
been to pay a Yifit to St. James at Compojiella, and at^er
[ 3^0 ]
that to the famous [i] Virgin on the other Side the Water
in England ; and this was rather a Re-vifit ; for I had been
tD fee her three Years before. Afe». What! out of Curiofity,
I fuppofe? Ogy. Nay, upon the Score of Religion. Men.
That Religion, I fuppofe, the Greek Tongue taught you.
Ogy. My Wife's Mother had bound herfelf by a Vow, that
if her Daughter fliould be delivered of a Uve Male Child, I
fhould go to prefent my Refpeds to St. James in Perfon, and
thank him for it. Men. And did you falute the Saint only
in your own and your Mother-in-law's Name ? Ogy. Nay,
in the Name of .the whole Family. Men. Truly I am per-
fuaded your Family would have been every whit as well, if
you had never complimented him at all. But prithee, what
Anfwer did he make you when you thanked him ? Ogy.
None at all ; but upon tendring my Prefent, he feemed to
fmile, and gave me a gentle Nod ^ with this fame Scollop
Shell. Men. But why does he rather give thofe than any
thing elfe ? Ogy. Becaufe he has Plenty of them, the neigh-
bouring Sea furnifliing him with them. Men. O gracious
Saint, that is both a Midwife to Women in Labour, and
hofpitable to Travellers too ! But what new Faihion of
making Vows is this, that one who does nothing himfelf,
fhall make a Vow that another Man fhall work ? Put the
Cafe that you fhould tie yourfelf up by a Vow that I fhould
faft twice a Week, if you fhould fucceed in fuch and fuch an
Affair, do you think I'd perform what you had vowed ?
Ogy. I believe you would not, altho' you had made the Vow
yourfelf : For you make a Joke of Fobbing the Saints oiEF.
But it was my Mother-in-law that made the Vow, and it
was my Duty to be obedient : You know the Temper of
Women, and alfo my own Intereft lay at Stake. Men. If
you had not performed the Vow, what Rifque had you run ?
Ogy. I don't believe the Saint could have laid an Adtion at
Law againft me ; but he might for the future have flopp'd
his Ears at my Petitions, or flily have brought fome Mif-
chief or other upon my Family : You know the Humour of
great Perfons. Men. Prithee tell me, how does the good
jvlan St. James do "> and what was he doing ? Ogy. Why
truly, not fo well by far as he ufed to be. Men. What's the
Matter, is he grown old ? Ogy. Trifler ! You know Saints
never grow old. No, but it is this [2] new Opinion that has
[i] Varathalaffiam^ Q^Walfm^ham^ a Place or Town near the Sea; and
fo ^arathalajfus fignifies in the Greek Language.
[a] Hac nova P.-rfuafw. Erafmui means Lutheranifm and the Refor-
siacionj tben juft fpringing up.
been
C 3^1 ]
been fpread abroad thro' the World, is the Occafion, that
he has not fo many Viuts made to him as he ufes to have;
and thofe that do come, give him a bare Salute, and eithef
nothing at all, or little or nothing elfe j they fay they can
beftow their Money to better Purpofe upon thole that want it.
Men. [i] An impious Opinion. O^. And this is the Caufe,
that this great Apoftle, that ufed to glitter with Gold and
Jewels, now is brought to the very Block that he is made of,
and has fcarce a Tallow Candle. Men. If this he true, the
reft of the Saints are in Danger of coming to the fime pafs.
Ogy. Nay, I can alTure you, that there is a Letter handed
about,, which the Virgin Mary herfelf has written about
this Matter. Men. What Mar^y .? Ogy She that is called
Maria a Labide. Men. That's up towards [2] Bafilj if I
am not miftaken. Ogy. The very fame. • Men. You talk
of a very ftony Saint. , But who did fhe write it to ? Ogy.
The Letter tells you the Name. Msn. Who did ihe fend
it by? Ogy. An Angel, no doubt, who laid it down in the
Pulpit, where the Preacher, to whom it was fent> took it up.
And to put the Matter out of. all doubt, you Ihall fee the'
original Letter. Men. Do you know the Angel's Hand, that
IS, Secretary to the Virgin Mary ? Ogy.. Well enough. M^.
By what Token } , Ogy. I have read St, Beds^ Epitaph,
that was engraven by the fame Angel, and the Shape of the
Letters are exadly the fame; and I have read the Difeharo-e
fent to\_'^']St. ^gidius, and they agree exadly. Do not theTe
prove the Matter plain enough } Men. M^y a Body fee it >
Ogy. You may, if you'll damn your Soul to the Pit' of Hell^
it ever you fpeak on't. Men. 'lis as fafe as if you fpoke i»-
to a Stone. Ogy. But there are fome Stones that are infa-
mous for this, that they can't keep a Secret. Men. If you
can't truft to a Stone, fpeak to a Mute then. Ogy. Upon
that Condition I'll recite it to you j but prick up both your
Ears. Me?u' I have done fo.
[i] ImpiajFerfuafto. This is "fpoken ironically ; for it appears br
Erafmus s Writings that he judged it Pious. '
r^y^^'n '^'"'l''"'': Tte ^aio^ci were the Inhabitants of a Country
? ^L^f 'T '^° °^''' '"'^ '^^ ^""'^ over-agai,.ft Confiance; for there
Is the City cAugufia ^Rauracorum.
Cs] Syn^rapham cDivo c^grdto miffam. The Legend relates, thst whea
Charles the Great was in Delpair of the Reniiifion of his Sins, thisoS./-
fcnf r^"^!-^'' Acqmttance, from an Angel, in thefe confoJatory
Svftn^S v'^'Ti"^'''"^' P^'<^^^^remmo: ie. Oa account of th*
Merits ot o^-idius 1 forgive the Sins oi Charles,
i
3ii I
Ogy. Mary the Mother -of y^ywy to [i] Glaucoplutui fend-
eth Greeting. This is to let you know, that I take it in
good Part, and you have much obliged me, in that you
have fo ftenuoufly followed Luther:, and convinced the World,
that it. is a Thing altogether needlefs to invoke Saints : For,
before this Time, I was e'en wearied out of my Life with
the wicked Importunities of Mortals. Every thing was
asked of me, as if my Son was always a Child, becaufe he
is painted fo, and at my Breaft, and therefore they take it
for granted I have him ftill at my Beck, and that he dares
not deny me any thing I ask of him, for fear I fhould deny
him the Bubby when he is thirfty. Nay, and they ask fuch
Things from me a Virgin, that a niodcft young Man would
fcarce dare to ask of a Bawd, and which I am afhamed to
commit to Writing. A Merchant that is going a Voyage to
Spam to get Pelf, recommends to me the Chaftity of his kept
Miftrefs ; and a profeircd Nun, having thrown away her
Veil, in order to make her Efcape, recommends to me the
Care of her Reputation, which fhe at the fame time intends
to proftitute. The wicked Soldier, who butchers Men for
Money, bawls out to me wich thefe Words, O BleiTed
Virgin, fend me rich Plunder. The Gamefter calls out to
me to give him good Luck, and promifes I fhall go Snips
with him in what he fhall win ; and if the Dice don't fa-
vour, [ am rail'd at and curs'd, becaufe I would not be a
Confederate in his Wickedneft. The Ufurer prays. Help
me to large Intereft for my Money j and if I deny 'em any
thing, they cry out, I am no Mother of Mercy. And there
is another Sort of People, whofe Prayers are not properly fo
wicked, as they are foolifh : The Maid prays, Marj/y give
me a handfome, rich Husband j the Wife cries. Give me'
fine Children ; and the Woman with Child, Give me a good
Delivery ; the old Woman prays to live long without a
Cough and Thirffc j and the doting old Man, Send that I
may grow young again ; the Philofopher fays. Give me the
Faculty of ftarting Difficulties never to be refolv'd j the Prieft
fays. Give me a fat Benefice j the Bifhop cries out for the"
Saving of his Diocefe j and the Mariner for a profperous
Voyage ; the Magiflrate cries out, Shev/ me thy Son before
I die j the Courtier, That he may make an effedual Confef^
fion, when at the Point of Death j the Husbandman calls oti
me for feafonable Rain ; and a Farmer's Wife, to preferve
[i] Glawcopliito. It lignifies a notable and rich Man ; for 'Plutuf is the'
God of Riches, and G/aucus iigni^es bright like the Sky, or of an Azure Co-
lour. <S. ©. Hands for Saktem diiity i. e. wiflies KLealthj.or fend& Greeting,
her
C 3^3 ]
her Sheep and Catde. If I refufe them any thing, then pre«
fently I am hard-hearted. If I refer them to my Son, they
cry, If you'll bat fay the Word, Fm fure he'll do it. How
is it poflible for me a lone Body, a Woman, and a Virgin,
to aflift Sailors, Soldiers, Merchants, Gamefters, Brides and
Bridegrooms, Women in Travail, Princes, Kings, andPea-
fants ? And what I have mentioned is the leaft Part of what
I fufFer. But I am much lefs troubled with thefe Concerns
now than I have been, for which I would give you my
hearty Thanks, if this Conveniency did not bring a greater-
Inconveniency along with it. I have indeed more Leifure,
but lels Honour, and lefs Money. Before I was faluted
Queen of the Heavens, and Lady of the World ; but now
there are very few, from whom I hear an Ave-Mary.
Formerly I was adorned with Jewels and Gold, and had
abundance of Changes of Apparel ; I had Prefents made me
of Gold and Jewels ; but now I have fcarce half a Veil: to
cover me, and that is Moufe-eaten too : And my yearly Re-
Venue \s fcarce enough to keep alive my poor Sexton, who
lights nle up a little Wax or Tallow Candle. But ail thefe
things might be born with, if you did not tell us, that there
were greater IJhings going forward. They fay, you aim at
this, to ftrip the Altars and Temples of the Saints every
where. I advife you again and again to have a care what
you do : For other Saints don't want Power to avenge them-
felves for the Wrong done to them. Feter, being turn'd out
of his Church, can fhut the Gate of the Kingdom of Heaven
againft you. Paul has a Sword. And [i] St. Bartholome'w
a Knife. The Monk [2] miliam has a Coit of Mail
under his Habit, and a heavy Lance too. And how will
you encounter [3] St. George on Horfeback, in his Cuiraffiers
Arms, his Sword, and his Whinyard ? Nor is Antkony without
his Weapon, he has his facred Fire : And the reft of them'
have either their Arms, or their Mifchiefs, that they can fend
out againft whom they pleafe : And as for myfelf, although
[t] Cuhva trmatur. He is fo painted, I fuppofe, becaufe he was flead
alive with a Knife, as Sheep are flead.
Ca] Gulielmut. Vniliant Duke oi cAquitain, who, as the Papifls fay,
■was converted by the Preaching of St Bernard, to own Innocent II. for
,the true Pope, who, by way of Penance for his paft Sins, undercook many
Pilgrimages, and at length inftituted an Order of regular Hermits ia
Italy^ who were called Gulielmitte : i. e. Williamitef, after his NaiTie.
He is painted as defcribed abave, by reafon that, according to the Com-
mand of a certain Hermit, be did Penance in that Habit, and threw bim»
felf at the Feet of Pope Eugenius III. Avho fiicceeded Innosem, This
Saint William died oimo 1155.
ts] Geoi-^io, Qc. The Patron Saint oi England^
Y a " 1 weal
[ 3^4 ]
I wear no Weapons, you fhall not turn me out, unlefs you
turn my Son out too, whom I hold in my Arms. I won't
be pulled away from him : You fliall either throw us both
cut, or leave us both, unlefs you have a Mind to have a
Church without a Chrift. Thefe things I would have you
know, and confider what Anfwer to give mc ; for I have
the Matter much at Heart.
From our Stone Houfe^ the Calends of Auguft, the
~Tear of my Sor^s Vaffon 1524. J the Stony
Virgm have fubfcrlbed this ixiith my own Ha?id.
Men. In truth this is a very terrible threatning Letter,
and I believe Glmicoplutus will! take care what he does.
Ogy. He will, if he is wife. Men. But why did not honefl
James write to him about this matter ? Ogy. Truly I can't
tell, except it is becaufe he is a' great way oflF, and now-a-days
' all Letters are intercepted- Men. But what Wind carried
you to England ? Ogy. A very favourable Wind ^ and I had
made half a Promife to the beycnd-fea She-Saint, to pay her
another Vifit within two or three Years. Men. What did
you go to ask for of her ? Ogy. Nothing new j but tliofe
common matters, the Health of my Family,pthe Incrcafe of
my Fortune, a long and a happy Life in tliis World, and
eternal Happinefs in the next. Men. But could not our Virgin
Mary have done as much for you here ? fhe has at Ant'werp
a Temple, much more magnificent than that beyond Sea.
Ogy. I won't deny that fhe is able, but one thing is beftowed
in one Place, and another thing in another : whether this
be her Pleafure merely, or whether fhe being of a Icind
Difpofition, accommodates herfelf in this to our Affections.
Men. I have often heard of fames-, but prithee give m.e
fom.e Account of that beyond-Sea Lady, Ogy. I will do k
as briefly as I can : Her Name is very famous all over E?/g-
land j and you fhall fcarce find any body in that Ifland,
■who thinks liis Affairs can be profperous, unlefs he every
Year makes fome Prefent to that Lady, greater or fmaller,
according as his Circumftances are in the World. Men.
Where-abouts does flie dwell? Ogy. Near the Coafl, upon
the furthelt Part between the Weft and the North, about
three Miles from the Sea j it is a Town that depends chiefly
upon the Refort of Strangers : There is a College of Canon:
there, to which the Latins have added the Name of 'Regu-
lars^ which are of a middle Sort between Monks, and rhofe
Canons that are called Seculars. Men. You tell me of am-
phibious Creatures, fuch as the Beavers are. Ogy. Nay,
Ho are Crocodiles too. But Trifling apar^ I'll tell you in
three'
[ 3^5 ]
three words ; In odious Cafes they are Canojis-, in favourable
Cafes they are Monks. Men. You have hitherto been tell-
ing me Riddles. Ogy. Why then I will give you a Mathe-
matical Demonftration. If the Pope o^ Ro?ne (hoxxld. throw
a Thunderbolt at all Monks, then they'll be aU Canons ;
and if he will allow all Monks to marryj then they'll be all
Monks, Men. Thefe are new Favours, I wifh they would
take mine for one. Ogy. But to return to the Matter in
hand. This College has little elfe to maintain it, but the
Liberality of the Virgin ; for all Prefents of Value are laid
up ; but as for any thing of Money, or ieffer Value, that goes
to the Support of the Flock and the Head of it, which they
call the Prior. Men. Are they Men of good Lives ? Ogy.
Not much amifs. They are richer in Piety than in Reve-
nue : There vs a clever neat Church, but the Virgin does
not dwell in it her felf ^ but upon point of Honour has given
it to her Son. Her Church is on the Right-hand of her Son's.
Men. Upon his Right-hand ! which way then does her Son
Jook ? Ogy. That's well taken notice of When he looks
toward the Weft he has his Mother on the Right, and when
he looks toward the Eaft, fhe is on his Left-hand. And Are
does not dv/ell there neither, for the Building is not finifh'd y
the Doors and Windows are all open, and the Wind blows
thro' it ; and not far off is a Place, where Oceanus the Father
of the Winds refides. Men. That's a hard Cafe, where
does fhe dwell then ? Ogy. In that unfinifh'd Church, that
I fpoke of, there is a Httle boarded Chapel, with a little
Door on each Side to receive Vifitors. There's but a little
Light to it, but what comes from the Tapers j t>ut the Scent
is. very grateful. Men. All thefe things conduce to Religion.
Ogy. Nay, Me7iedemus., if you faw the Inlide of it, you
would fay it was the Seat of the Saints, it is all fo glittering
with Jewels, Gold and SUver. Men. You fet me agog to
go thither too. Ogy. If you do, you will never repent ot
your Journey. Men. Is there any holy Oil there } Ogy.
Simpleton, that Oil is only the Sweat of Saints in their
Sepulchres, as of Jindre'vjy Catherine.) dec. [i] Mary was
never buried. Men. I confcG I was under a Miftake j but
make an end of your Story. Ogy. That Religion may
fpread it feif the more widely, fome things are fhewn at one
Place, and »fbme at another. Men. And it may be, that the
Donations maybe larger, according to the old Saying, ikf^r//;/
[i] -^epuha. Tbe Papift? fay flie sever died, tut was taKen up alive
iato Heaven,
Y 5 Hands
[ 3i« ]
Uandf v:itl carry off much Flunder. Ogy. And there are al-
ways Tome at hand, to fhew you what you have a mind to
fee. Mem. What, of the Canons ? Ogy. No, no, they are
not permitted, left under the Colour of Religion they fnould
prove irreligious, and while they are ferving the Virgin, lofe
their own Virginity. Only in the inner Chapel, Which I
call the Chamber of the holy Virgin, a certain Canon ftands
at the Altar. Men. What does lie ftand there for ? Ogy,
To receive and keep th^ which is given. Men. Muft Peo-
ple give whether they will or no ? Ogy. No : but a certain
religious Modefty makes fome give, when any body ftands
bv, which would not give a Farthing, if there were no
Witnefs of it ^ or give more than otherwife they would give.
Men. You fet forth human Nature, as I have experienc'd in
my felf. Ogy. There are fome fo devoted to the human Na-
ture, that while they pretend to lay one Gift on the Altar, by
a wonderful Sleight of Hand, they fteal what another has laid
down. Men. But put the Cafe no body were by, would the
Virgin thunder at them ? Ogy. Why ihould the Virgin do
that, any more than God himfelf does, whom they are not
afraid to ftrip of his Ornaments, and to break thro' the Walls
of the Church to come at them ? Men. I can't well tell
which I admire at moft, the impious Confidence of thole
Wretches, or God's Patience. Ogy. At the North-fide there
is a certain Gate, not of a Church, don't miftake me, but of
the Wall that inclofes the Church-yard, that has a very little
Wicket, as in the great Gates of Noblemen, that he that has
a mind to get in, muft firft venture the breaking of his Shins,
and afrerwards ftoop his Head too. Men. In truth, it would
not be fafe for a Man to enter in at fuch a little Door. Ogy.
You're in the right on't. But yet the Verger told me, that
fome time fince a Knight on horfe-back, having efcaped out
of the Hands of his Enemy, who follow'd him at the Heels,
got in ihro' this Wicket. The poor Man at the laft Pinch,
by a fuddenturn of Thought, recommended himfelf to the
ho-y Virgin, that was the neareft to him. For he refolv'd to
t i-ke Sanctuary at her Altar, if the Gate had been open.
When behold, which is fuch a thing as was never heard of,
both Man and Horfe v/ere on a fudden taken into theChurch-
yard, and his Enemy left on the ouifide of it, ftark mad at
his Difappointment. Men. And did he give you Realbn to
believe {b wonderful a Relation? Ogy. Without doubt.
M^n. That was no cafy matter to a Man of your Philofophy.
Ogy He fliew'd me a Plate of Copper nail'd on the Door,
that had the very Image of this Knight, that was thus fav'd ;
and in the very Habit, which was then in fafliion among the
EngliJIj:,
[ r-7 ]
EuglijJ.-'', which IS the fame we Tee in old Pidure.^, which, if
they are drawn truly, the Barbers, and Dyers, and Weavers
in thofe Days, had but a bad time on't. Men. Why fo ?
Ogy. Why, he had a Beard Uke a Goat j and there was not a
Wrinkle in any of his Cioaths, they were made ^o ftrait to his
Body, that the very Straitnefs of them made his Body the
more (lender. There was alfo another Plate that was an cxad
Defcription of the Chapel, and the Size of it. Me?T. Then
there was no doubt to be made on't. Ogy. Under the little
Wicket there was an Iron-grate, no bigger than what a Man
on foot could jufl: get in at. For it was not fit that any Horfe
afterwards fhould tread upon that Place, which the former
Knight had confecrated to the Virgin. Men. And very
good Reafon. Ogy. From hence towards the Eaft, there is
another Chapel full of Wonders ; thither I went. Ano-
ther Verger received me. There we pray'd a little ■, and
there was Ihewn us the middle Joint of a Man's Finger j I
kifs'd it, and ask'd whofe Relick it was ? He told me it was
St. Teters ; what, faid I, the Apoftle ? He faid it was. I
then took notice of the Bignefs of the Joint, which was large
enough to be taken for that of a Giant. Upon which, faid
I, Feter mult needs have been a very lufty Man. At this
one of the Company fell a laughing ^ I was very much vext
at it, for if he had held his Tongue, the Verger would have
fhewn us all the Relicks. Hov\^ever3 we pacified him pretty
well, by giving him a few Groats. Before this little Cha-
pel ftood a Houfe, which he told us, in the Winter-time
when all things were buried in Snow, was brought there
on a fudden, from feme place a great way ofF. Under this
Houfe there were two Pits brim-full, that were fed by a
Fountain confecrated to the holy Virgin. The Water was
wonderful cold, and of great virtue in curing Pains in the Head
and Stomach. Men. If cold Water will cure Pains in the
Head and Stomach, in time Oil will quench Fire. Ogy. But,
my good Friend, you are hearing that which is miraculous ;
for what Miracle is there in cold Water quenching Thirfl ?
Men. That Shift goes a great way in this Story. Ogy. It
was poGtively affirmed, that this Spring burft out of the
Ground on a fudden, at the com.mand of the holy Virgin. I
obferving every thing very diligently, ask'd him how many
Years it was, fince that little Hoife was brought thither ?
He faid it had been there for fome Ages. But, faid I, me-
thinks the Walls don't feem to carry any Marks of Antiquity in
them : He did not much deny it. Ner thefe Pillars, faid I:
He did not deny but thofe had been fet up lately ; and the
thing fliew'd itfelf plainly. Then, fiid I, that Straw and
Y 4 Reeds,
[ 3^8 ]
Reed?j the whole Thatch of it feems not to have been Co
long laid. He allovv^'d it. Nor do thefe crofs Beams and
Rafters, that bear up the Roof, feem to have been laid
many Years ago. He confeft they were not. And there being
no Part of that Cottage remaining, faid I to him, how then
does it appear, that this is the very Cottage that was brought
ib far thro' the Air ? Men. Prithee, how did the Sexton extri-
cate himfelf out of this Difficulty ? Ogy. He prefently
fliew'd us an old Bear's Skin, tackc there to a Piece of Tim-
ber, and almoll: laught at us to our very Faces, for not ha-
ving Eyes to perceive a "thing that was fo plain. Therefore
feeming to be fatisfied, and excufuig our Dulnefs of Appre-
lieniion, we turned our felves to the Heavenly Milk of the
blefled Virgin. Meu. O Mother like her Son ! for as he has
left us fo much of his Blood upon Earth, fo fhe has left
us fo much of her Milk, that it is fcarce credible, that a
Woman v/ho never had but oneCliild, fhould have fomuch,.
altho' her Child had never fuck'd a Drop. Ogy. And they
tell us the fame Stories about our Lord's Crofs, that is fhewn
up and dov/n, both publickly and privately, in fo many
Places, that if all the Fragments v/ere gathered together, they
would feem to be fufficient Loading for a good large Ship ;
and yet our Lord himfelf carried the whole Crofs upon his
Shoulders. Men. And don't you think this is wonderful?
Ogj. It may be faid to be an extraordinary thing, but not a
wonderful one, fincc the Lord who encreafes thefe things
according to his own Pleafure, is Omnipotent. Men. You put
a very pious Conftrudlion upon it, but I am afraid that a great
many fuch things are forged for the fake of getting Money.
Ogy. I cannot think God would fufFer any one to put thefe
Mockeries upon him. Men. Nay, when both the Mother and
Son, Father and Spirit are robb'd by facrilegious Perfons,
they don't feem to be mov'd the leaft in the World, fo as to
deter v/icked Perfons, fo much as by a Nod or a Stamp ; fo
great is the Lenity of the Divine Being. Ogy. This is true,
but hear me out : That Milk is kept upon the high Altar,
in which Chrifl is in the Middle, and his Mother, for Refpeft
fake, a this right Hand ; for the Milk reprefents the Mother.
Men. Why, is it plain to be feen then ? Ogy. It is preferv'd
in a Cryftal Glafs. Men. Is it liquid then? Ogy. What
do you talk of being liquid, when it has been put in above
1500 Years ago. Is is fo concreted, you would take it for bea-
ten Chalk, temper'd with the White of an Egg. Men. But
why don't rhey fhew it open ? Ogy. Left the Milk of the
Virgin fliould be defii'd by the Kiiles of Men. Men. You
iky very well, for I believe there are fome who put Lips to
its
' [ 32p 1
it, that are neither pure nor Virgin ones. Ogy. As foon as
the Officer fees us, he runs prefently and puts on a Surplice,
and a Stole about his Neck, and falls down very devoutly
and worfhips, and by and by gives us the holy A4ilk to Idfs.
Then we proftrated our felves at the loweft Step of the
Altar, and having firft paid our Adoration to Chrift, we
apply'd our felves to the Virgin in the following Prayer,
which we had fram'd before-hand for this very purpofe.
Virgin Mother, who haft merited to give Suck to the Lord
of Heaven and Earth, thy Sonjefus, from thy Virgin Breafts;
we defire that being purified by his Blood, we may arrive at
that happy Infant State of Dove-like Innocence, which be-
ing void of Malice, Fraud, and Deceit, we may continually
delire the JMilk of the Evangelical Doftrine, until it grows
up to a perfed Man, and to the Meafure of the Fulnefs of
Chrift, whofe blefTed Society thou wilt enjoy for evermore,
with the Father and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Men. Truly, a devout Prayer. But what Anfwer did ihe
make ? Ogy. If my Eyes did not deceive me, they were
bothpieafed: For the holy Milk feem'd to give a Leap, and
the Eucharift ieem'd to look fomewhat bigger than ufual.
In the mean time the Shewer of the Relicks came to us,
without fpeaking a Word, holding out fuch a kind of Table,
as they in Germany that take Toll on the Bridges hold out
to you. Men. In truth, I have oftentimes curfed thofe era- .
ving Tables, when I travelled in Germany. Ogy. We laid
down fome Pieces of Money, which he prefented to the Vir-
gin. After this, by our Interpreter, (if I remember right)
one "Robert Aldridgej a well fpoken young Man, and a great
Mafter of the EngUfi Tongue, I enquired, as civilly as I
could, what Affiirance he had, that this was really the Virgin's
Milk. And truly, I defired to be fatisfied of this with a
pious Intention, that I might ftop the Mouths of fome
impious Perfbns, who are us'd to fcofF at all thefe things.
The Officer firft contra<5led his Brow without fpeaking a
Word i thereupon I preft the Interpreter to put the fame
Queftion to him again, but in the faireft manner that could
be; and he did it in fo obliging a manner, that if he had
addrefs'd himfelf to the Mother her fclf in thefe Terms,
when fhe had but newly lain in, ftiev/ould not have taken ic
amifs. But the Officer, as if he had been infpired with fome
Enthufiafm, looking upon us with ailoniflied Eyes, and
with a fort of Horror, curfing our blafphemous Expreffion,
faid, What need is there for your putting this ^tejiioity
luhea you have an Authentick Record? And. had turnM us
out of Doors for Hereticlcs, had not a few Pence pacified his
Pvage.
W
[ BS'^ ]
Rage, iWe», But how did you behave your felvcs in the
Interim ? Ogj. Juft as if we had been ftunned with a
Cudgel, or (Iruck with Thunder; we fneak'd away, humbly
begging his Pardon for our Boldnefs : For fo a I\4an ought to
do in holy Matters. Thence we went to the little Chapel>
the Dwelling of the Virgin Saint. In our Way thither, an
Expounder of facred things, one of the Minors, offers him-
ielf j he ftares upon us as if he had a mind to draw our Pic-
tures j and having gone a little further, another meets U5,
ftaring upon us after the fame manner ; and after him a
third. Me?i. It may be they had a mind to have drawn
your Pidure. Ogy. But I fufpeded far otherwife. Men.
What did you imagine then ? Ogy. That fojme facrilegious
Perfon had ftolen fome of the Virgin's Veflments, and that
I was fufpeded as the Thief Therefore, having entred the
Chapel, I addrefs'd my felf to the Virgin-Mother with this
fhort Prayer.
O thou who only of all Women art a Mother and a Vir-
gin, the moft happy of Mothers, and the pureft of Virgins,
we that are impure do now come to vifit and addrefs our
felves to thee that art pure, and reverence thee with our
poor Offerings, Rich as they are. O that thy Son would en-
able us to imitate thy moft holy Life, that we may defer ve,
by the Grace of die Holy Spirit, to conceive the Lord Jefus
in the moft inward Bowels of our Minds, and having once
conceiv'd him, never to lofe him. Amen. Sol Idfs'd the Al-
tar, laid down fome Money, and withdrew. Me-a. What, did
the Virgin hear ? Did fhe give you no Nod as a Token that
fhe had heard your Prayer > Ogy. As I told you before, it
was but an uncertain Light, and Hie ftood in the dark at the
Right Side of the Altar : And the Check of the former Offi-
cer had made me fo dejedcd, that I did not dare to lift up
my Eyes again. Me?^. Then this Adventure had not a very
happy Conclufion ? Ogy. Nay, the happieft of all. Men.
Nay, now you put me in Courage again ; for, as your Homer
fays, my Heart was e'en funk into ray Breeches. Ogy. After
Dinner we go to Church again. Men. How did you dare
to do that, being fifpeded of Sacrilege ? Ogy. It may be
I v/as : but I did not fufped my felf. A clear Confcience
fears nothing. I had a great mind to fee the Record that
the Shewer of the Reliques had referr'd us to. Having
hunted a great while for it, we found it at laft ; but it was
hunsj up fo high, that he muft have good Eyes that could
read it : And mine are none of the beft, nor none of the
worft. Therefore, not being willing wholly to truft to
him in a Matter of fach Moment, I went along with Al"
drifws
W
[ 531 ]
driptts as he read it. Men. Well ! and were alfyour Doubts
remov'd ? Ogy. I was afham'd of my felf, that I fliould
doubt of a Matter, that there was made fo plain before one's
Eyes, the Name, the Place, the Order of the Proceeding,
in one Word, there was nothing omitted. There was one
William of P^w, a Man of general Piety, but more efpc-
cially religious in getting together the Relicks of Saints all
over the Earth. He having travell'd over a great many
Countries, and having every where diligently fearch'd Mo-
nafteries and Churches, at laft arriv'd at Confiantinopk -, (for
this William^ Brother was a Bifhop there.) When he was
preparing to return home, the Bifhop acquainted him, that
there was a certain Nun that had the Virgin's Milk i and
' that he would be the happieft Man in the World, if he could
poffibly get any of it, either for Love or Money, or by any
other means ^ for that all the Relicks he had hitherto col-
lefted, were nothing, compared to that facred Milk. Upon
this, William never was at reft, till he had obtain'd one half
of this Milk ^ and having gotten this Treafure, thought him-
felf richer than [i] Crcejus. Men. And very well he mightj
'twas a thing fo unexpefted too. 0^7. He goes ftrait home-
ward, but falls lick by the way. Men. O how little Truft is
to be put in human FeUcity, that it fhall be either perfect
or long-liv'd ! O^j'. Finding himfelf in danger, he fends for
a Frenchman, a faithful Fellow-Traveller, and makes him
fwear Secrecy j and then delivers the Milk to him upon this
Condition, That if he got home fafe, he fhould depofit that
Treafure on the Altar of the holy Virgin that is worfhipped
at Taris-i in that [2] noble Church that has the River Sein.
on each fide of it, as if itfelf gave place in Reverence to
the Divinity of the Virgin. To fum up the matter in few
Words, William was buried ; the other rides Poft, but he
falls fick by the way, and thinking himfelf paft Recovery,
he delivers the Milk to an EngUjhman that was his Fellov/-
Traveller, making him take a folemn Oath that he would
perform that which he himfelf was to have done. The
. one dies, the other takes it, and puts it 'upon the Altar/ in
the Prefence of all the Canons of the Place, thofe that at
that time were call'd Regulars, as they are yet at St. [3] Ge~
[i] Craefus. Croefus was a King of Lydia^ thac was accounted the
richeft King vipon the Earth.
{z^^cAugufto templo. It is the* chief Church of Piir/V, and dedicated Co
the Virgin. It is in the Tile called Vljle de noire Dame.
[i] Divam Genovefam. She is the nioft noted Patron of the farifiars j
her Church is next to that oi noire Dame, and her Relicfcs are laid up in
a very coftly Bier, and in times of Afflittion are cairied thro' the City in
Procclfion : She died Anno 499,
noveve
[ 33^ ]
itoveve : He obtained half this Milk of them, and carried it
into Englandy and made a Prefent of it to this beyond-fea
Place, his Mind being moved thereunto by a Divine Im^
pulfe. Men. Truly this Story hangs very handfomly toge-
ther. Ogy. Nay farther, that there might not be left the
leaft Room to doubt, the very Names of the Bifhops were
fet down, that were authorized to grant Releafes and Indul-
gences to fuch as fhould come to fee the Milk, [i] accord-
ing to the Power to them given, but not without fome
Donation or another. Men. And how far did that Power
extend ? Ogy. To forty Days. Men. But are there Days in
Purgatory ? Ogy. For certain there is Time there. Men,
But when they have difpos'd of this Stock of forty Days,
have they no more to beftow ? Ogy. No : For there ever
and anon arifes fomething for them to beftow, and 'tis in this
quite otherwife than it is with the Tub of the [2] Danaides.
For tho' that is continually filling, is always empty j but in
tMs, tho' you are continually drawing out, there is never the
lefs in the VefTel. Men. But if the Remiffion of forty Days
were given to a hundred thoufand Men, would every one have
fo much ? Ogy. Yes, fo much. Men. And fuppofe that they
that have received forty Days in the Morning, fiiould ask
for forty Days more at Night, Would they have where-
withal to give them } Ogy. Yes, ten times over in an Hour.
Men. I wilh I had fuch a Cabinet at home j I would not
wifli for above three Groats, if they might be doubled and
tripled after that manner. Ogy. You might as well have
wifh'd to be all turn'd into Gold your felf, and as foon have
had what you wifh'd for. But to return to my Story, there
was one Argument added, by a Man of great Piety and
Candour, which is, that tho' the Virgin's Milk, which k
fhewn in many other Places, is indeed venerable enough, in
that it was fcrap'd off from Stones, yet this was more vene-
rable than all the reft, becaufe this was fav'd as it flow'd
from the Virgin's Breaft, without touching the Ground.
Men. But how does that appear? Ogy. O! the Nun at
Conftantinople that gave it, faid fo. Men. It may be fhe had
it of St. Bernard. Ogy. I believe fhe had. Men. He,
when he was very old, had the Happinefs to tafte Milk
[i] Siio dimenfo. According to the Power that the Pope has prercribed
them ; for they can't grant Indtilgences for any longer time than the
Pope has granted them Licences for.
[i] D.uiaiiiuin. The Daughters oi^ Donnas, who were 50 in Number,
and as tlic P )et.s feign, were condemned in the Infernal Regions to fill a
VtlTcl with Holes in it full of Water ; bccaule all of them, cj;ceptC/j-
temKcftra, , llcw their Husbands on their V/edding Night.
froiQ
r 333 1
from tlie fame Nipple which the Child Jefus fuckecJ-.
Whence I wonder lie was not rather called Lahifluous than
Mellifluous. But how is that called the Virgin's Milk that
did not flow from her Breafts ? Ogj. That did flow from
her Breafts, but dropping upon the Stone fhe fat upon,
while fhe was giving fUck, it concreted, and was afterwards,
by Providence, fo multiplied. Men. Right. Go on. Ogj.
Thefe tilings being over, we were juft upon the Point of
going away j but Vv'alking about, and looking round us to fee
if there was any thing worth taking Notice of, the Chapel-
Oflficers come to us again, leering at us, pointing at us with
their Fingers, they advance to us, retreat, run backward and
forward, nod, as if they would fain have faid fomething to
us, if they had had Courage enough to have done k. Men.
And was not you afraid then .? Ogy. No, not at all ; but I
looked them full in the Face very chearfuUy, as who fhould
fay. Speak and welcome. At length one of them comes up
to me, and asked my Nam.e. I told it him. He asked me i£
I was the Perfon that a matter of two Years ago fet up a
Votive Table in Hebrew Letters ? I told him I was. Me?^.
Can you write Hebrew then ^ Ogy. No, but they call every
thing Hebrew that they can't underftand. But by and by
(upon calling, as I fuppofe) came the flrfSr©- vrtg^ of the
College. Men. What Title of Dignity is that ? Have they
not an Abbot ? Ogy. No. Men. Why fo ? Ogy. Becaufe
they don't underftand Hebrew. Men. Have they no Bif}iop?
Ogy. None at all. Men. Why fo } Ogy. Becaufe the Virgin
is fo poor, that fhe has not wherewith to buy a Staff and a
Mitre. Men. Ha'n't they fo much as a Prefident .? Ogy.
No, nor that neither. Men. What hinders } Ogy. Becaufe
a Prefident is a Name of Dignity, and not of Holinefs, and
therefore the Colleges of Canons reject the Name of an
Abbot,- but they willinglv allow the Name of a Prefident.
Men. But this nr^ar©- 6Vse^< is what I never heard of
before. Ogy. In truth you are but an indifferent Gramma-
rian then. Men. I know what v^^^o'^^ujov is in Rhetoric.
Ogy. Why that's it. He that is next the Prior is Poflerior
Prior. Men. You mean a Sub-Prior. Ogy. He faluted me
very courteoufly. He told me what great Pains had been-
taken to read thofe Verfes j what wiping of Spedtacles there
had been to no Purpofe ; how often one grave Do6tor of
Divinity, and another of Law, had been brought thither ta
expound the Table. One -faid the Letters were Arabick'.,
another faid they were fictitious ones j but at laft they
found one that made a fliift to read the Title. It was
written in Latin Words, and Latin Capitals. The Verfes
wer«'
. [ 334 ]
Were Greek, in Greek Capitals, which at firfl: Sight look'd
like Romati Capitals. Being requeued, I turn'd the Verfes
into luathi.) Word for Word. They would have given me
a Reward for this fmall Service, but I pofitively refufed it,
affirming that there was nothing fo difficult that I would nor,
with all the Readinefs in the World, undertake for the fake
of the Holy Virgin, even if fhe fhould command me to carry
a Letter for her from thence to yerufalem. Men. What
Occafion can fhe have for you to be her Letter-Carrier, that
has fo many Angels for her Secretaries and Pages ? Ogy.
He pulled out of his Pouch a little Piece of Wood, cut off
from the Beam on which the Virgin-Mother flood. The
admirable Fragrancy of it, fhewed it to be a thing that
\^as highly facred. I having received this Prefent in -the
lowefl: Pofture of Humility, and bare-headed, and having
kils'd it over and over, put it in my Pocket. Men. May
a Body fee it ? Ogy. I'll let you fee it if you will. But if
you have eaten or drank to Day, or have had to do with
your Wife laft Night, I would not advife you to look upon
it. Men. Let me fee it, there is no Danger. Ogy. Here
*tis for you. Men. O happy Man art thou that haft fuch a
Prefent ! Ogy. Whether you know it or no, I would not
exchange this little Fragment for all the Gold in [i] Tagus.
I'll fet it in Gold, and put it in a Cryftal Cafe, fo that it
may be feen through it. When this Hyfleroprotos faw me
fo religioufly tranfported with that fmall Prefent, thinking
I deferved to have Things of greater Moment imparted to
me, he asked me, if I had feen the Virgin's Secrets. That
Word ftartled me a little, but I durft not ask him what he
meant by the Virgin's Secrets ; for in Matters fo facred there
is Danger in a Slip of the Tongue. I told him I had not feen
them j but I had a very great Defire to fee them. Then
I am conduced in as one in an Ecftacy. A Wax Taper
or two was lighted, and a little Image was fhewn me, that
made no extraordinary Figure, neither for Magnitude,
Matter, nor Workmanfhip, but of extraordinary Virtue.
Men. Bulk ha's no great Matter in it, as to the doing of Mi-
racles. I have feen St. Chrifiopber at Varh, not him of a
[2] Cart-Load, or of the Size of a Colojfus, but rather of a
large Mountain ; but I never heard he was famous for do-
ing Miracles. Ogy. At the Feet of the Virgin there is a
[il Tagi. Tbe Taguf is a River of Vorrit^aly celebrated by the Poets
on Accoiint of its golden Sands. Thus Ovid,
Sluodquejuo Tapis amtie vehit^ fluix f^nibltf aiCrHtn,
[*] Hamaxillnm. Big like » Car,
Jewcf/
[ sssl
Jewel, that neither the Latins nor Greeks have yet given a
Name to. The French have given it a Name from a [ij
Toadj becaufe it has the Refemblaace of a Toad in it (o
livdy, that no Art can match it. And that which is the
more miraculous, is, that it is a very fmall Stone j and the
Image does not ftand out of it, but is included in the very
Body of the Stone, and may be feen thro' it. Me7i, Perhaps
they may fancy they fee the Likenefs of a Toad cut in it, as
fome fancy they fee that of an Eagle in the Stalk of a Brake
or Fern j and as Boys, who fee every thing in the Cbuds,
as Dragons breathing out Fire, burning Mountains and armed
Men fighting. Ogy. Nay, that you may be thoroughly fa-
tisfied in the Matter, no living Toad ever fliewed itfelf
more plainly, than that is expreffed there. Me7z. I have
been hearing your Stories all this while ; but I would have
you find out fome Body elfe to give Credit to your Story of
the Toad. Ogy. I don't at all wonder, Menedemusy that you
are fo incredulous ; I fliould not have believ'd it myfelf, if
the whole Tribe of Divines had afferted it, unlefs I had {sen
it with thefe Eyes, I fay, beheld with thefe very Eyes, and
had experienced the Truth of it. But, methinks you {eera
not to be curious enough upon thefe natural Rarities. Mcti,
Why fo ? what, becaufe I won't believe that AlTes fly. Ogj.
But do you not obferve how Nature fports herfelf in imi-
tating the Shapes and Colours of every Thing, in other Things,
but efpecially in precious Stones ? And alfo, what admirable'
Virmes it has planted in them, which are altogether incre-
dible, if common Experience did not force us to a Belief of
them ? Prithee tell me, would you ever have believed with-
out feeing it with your Eyes, that Steel could have been
drawn by the Load-Stone, without touching it, or be driven
away from it without being touch'd by it ? Me;2. No, in-
deed I never fhould, although ten Arifiotles had taken their
Oaths of the Truth of it. Ogy. Well then, don't {zj every
Thing's a Fable that has not fallen within the Compafs of your
Experience. We find the Figure of a Boh in a Thunder-
Stojie j Vtre in the Carbuncle ^ the Figure of Ha//, and the
Coldnefs of it in the Hai/-Stone, nay, even tho' you throw
k into the Midft of the Fire j the deep and tranfparent
Wa'ves of the Sea in the Emerald j the Carcimas imitates
the Figure of a Sea-Crab ; the Echites of a Viper ; the Sca^
rites of a Gilt-Head j the Theracites of a Hawk ,• the Gera-
ti] Gain a 'Bufone. The Firench call it a CrefaHjine, from the Word"
Crefgnd 9, Toad,
nites
[ 33^ ]
nites fhews you the figur'd Neck of a Crane ; the /Egoph-=^
thahnus ihiews the Eye of a Goafj and fome fliew that of a
Hog, and another three Human Eyes together ; The Lycoph-
thalmiis paints you out the Eye of a Wolf in four Colours,
fiery and bloody, and in the middle, black encompalTed
with white ; if you open the black Cyamea, you will find a
Beafi in the middle; the Dryites reprefents the Trunk of a
Tree, and burns hke Wood; The Cijjites and Narctjjites
reprefent Ivy ; the Ajlrapias darts forth Rays of Lightning
out of the midft of white or blue j the Phlegontites fiiews a
Flame within, that does not come out ; in the Anthracitis
you may fee certain Sparks running too and fro j the Crocias
reprefents the Colour of Saffr-on ; the Khodites that of a Ro/e j
the Chalcites of Brafs ; the Aietites the Figure of an Eagle,
with a white Tail ; the jT^oj reprefents a Feacdck ; the C^e-
lidonia an -4/^ ; the Mermecites has the Image of a creeping
Tifmire growing within it ; the Cantharias fhews a perfe<ft
Beetle ; and the Scorpites admirably decyphers a Scorpion.
But why fliould I proceed to recount that which is innu-
merable, when there is no Part of Nature, either in Ele-
ments, Animals, or Plants, which Nature, as it were to
(port herfelf, does not give us fome Refemblance of in
Stones ? And do you then admire that the Form of a Toad
is reprefented in the Bufonites ? Men. I wonder that Nature
has fo much {pare Time, as to divert herfelf in drawing the
Pidures of every thing-, Ogy. It has a mind to exercife the
Curiofity of Mankind, and by that means to keep us froin
being idle. And yet as tho' we were at a Lofs to know how
to pafs away our Time, we run a madding after Buflfoons,
Dice, and Jugglers. Men. You fay true. Ogy. And fome
Perfons of Credit add, that if you put this Toad- Stone into
Vinegar, it will move its Legs and fwim. Men. But why is
this dedicated to the Virgin ? O^^. Becaufe fhe has overcome,
trampled upon, and extinguifned all Uncleannefs, Malice,
Pride, Avarice, and all manner |of earthly Defires. Men.Woo.
to us then who carry fo much of the Toad ftill in our Hearts !
Ogy. But we fhall ho. pure if we worlhip the Virgin as we
ought. Men. How would fhe have us worfhip her } Ogy.
You will perform moft acceptable Service to her if you
imitate her. Men. That's foon faid, but not fo eafily per-
formed. Ogy. It is hard, indeed ; but then it is very well
worth the Pains. Men. Come on, go forwards in what you .
have begun. Ogy. Afterwards he fhewed me Statues or
Gold and Silver : This, fays he, is folid Gold ; and this is"
only Silver gilt ; he told me the Weight of every one, the
Price, and the Name of the Donor. I being full of Admira-
tied-
[ ^^7 ]
tion at every Thincr, and congratulating the Virgin being
Miftrefs of fo much Wealth, fays the Officer to me, Inai-
much as I perceive you are fo pious a Spectator, I think I
lliould not do fairly by you, if 1 fhould conceal iny Thing
from you j therefore you fhall fee the greateft Privacies the
Virgin has : And presently he takes out of a Drawer from
under the Altar, a World of admirable Things, the Particu-
lars of v/hich, if I (hould proceed to mention, the Day would
not be long enough j fo that thus far the Journey fucceeded
to my.Wifli. I fatisfied my Curiofity abundantly with fine
Sights, and brought home with me this ineftimable Prefent,
a Pledge of the Virgin's Love, given me by herfelf Men.
Did you ever make Trial of the Virtues of this Piece of
Wood ? Ogy. I have. Three or four Days ago, I being in
an Houfe of Entertainment, found a Man ftark mad, whom
they were juil going to put into Chains ; I put this Piece of
Wood privately under his Bolfter, and he fell into a found
Sleep, and flept a long Time, and when he rcfe in the Morn-
ing he was as fober as ever. Men. Perhaps he was not
diftraded but drunk, and Sleep commonly cures that Diftem-
per. Ogy. Menedevrus-) fince you love to ufe Raillery, take
another Subjed. It is neiiher pioiis nor fafe to make Sport
with Saints. Nay, the Man himfelf told me. That there
was a Woman appeared to him in his Sleep of an incompa-
rable Beauty, that held forth a Cup to him to drink. Me?*.
Hellebore, I believe. Ogy. That's uncertain ^ but this i^
certain, that the Man recover'd his ileafon. Met. Did you
pafs by Thovtas Archbii"hop of Canterbury ? Ogy. No, I,
think I did not. It is one of the moft religious Pilgrimages
in the World. Me/t. I long to hear it, if it won't be too
much Trouble to you. Ogy. It is fo far from that, that you
will oblige me in hearing of it. That Part of England that
looks towards Flanders and France is called Kent : The Me-
tropolis of it is Canterbury. Thcye are two Monafteries in
ii, that are almofl contiguous j and they are both of Benedict
tines. That which bears the Name of [i] Augufline^ is
the antienter of the two j that which is now called by the
Name of St. Thomas^ feems to have been the Seat of St.
Thomas the Archbifhop, where he had led his Life with a
few Monks, whom he chofe for his Companions, as now-a-
days Deans have their Palaces near the Church, tho' feparate
[»] C/^uguJiini, A Monk or Ab^ot of this Order, who Was fent by Pope
Gre^ry the Great into England, dnno 59(5, to convert the Remainder of
the Pagans to Chriftianitv ; who having converted Etbelrcd, King of AVjjf,
5kiid baptized him, was afterwards made ArcbbiJhop oiCamerbitry.
Z from
C 338 ]
from) the Houfes of other Canons. For, in old Time, both
Billiops and Canons were Monks, as appears by the mani-
fcfl Veftigia of Things. But the Church, that is dedicated
to St. Thomas^ raifes itfelf up towards Heaven with that Ma-
jeily, that it flrikes thofe that behold it at a great Diftance,
with iin Awe of Religion, and now, with its Splendor, makes
the Light of the neighbouring Palaces look dim, and as it
were obfcures the Place that was antiendy the moil cele-
brated for Religion. There are two lofty Turrets, which
fland, as it were, bidding Vilitants welcome from afar
oiF ; and a Ring of Bells that make the adjacent Country
echo far and wide with their rolling Sound. In the South
Porch of the Church ftand three Sione Statues of Men in
Armour, who with wicked Hands murdered the holy Man,
with the Names of their Countries, [i] Tufci^ Fufci^ and
Betri. Men. Why have fuch wicked Men fo much Ho-
nour done them ? Ogy. They have the fame Honour done
to them, that is done to Judas-, Pilate, Caiaphas, and the
Band of wicked Soldiers, whofe Images you may fee carv'd
upon ilately Altars : And their Names are added, that none
after them might arrogate to themfelves the Glory of the
Fact. They are fet theit: in open Sight, to be a Warning
to wicked Courtiers, that no one may hereafter prefumc
to lay his Hand on either Biiliops or the PolTeffions of the
Church. For thefe three Ruffians ran mad with Horror of
the Fad they had committed ; nor had they come to
themfelves again, had not holy Thomas been implored in
Favour of them. Afeji. O the perpetual Clemency of Mar-
tyrs ! Ogy. When you are entered in, a certain fpacious
Majefty of Place opens itfelf- to you, which is free to every
one. Men. Is there nothing to be feen there ? Ogy. No-
thing but the Bulk of the Strudure, and fome Books chained
to the Pillars, containing the Gofpel of Nicodemus, and the
Sepulchre of, I can't tell \\{ho. Men. And what elfe ? Ogy,
Iron Grates inclofe the Place called the Choir, fo that there's
no Entrance ; but fo that the View is ftill open from one
End of the Church to the other. You afcend to this by a
great many Steps, under which there is a certain Vault that
opens a Paffage to the North Side. There they fhew a
wooden Altar, confecrated to the holy Virgin ; it is a very
fmall one, and remarkable for nothing, except as a Monu-
ment of Antiquity, reproaching the Luxury of the prefent
[i] Tufa, Fulci, Qetri. Tbefe three Names of the Aflkmni that mur-
dered Thomas Beckett are fnppofed to mean Jracyj Fitz Urft, and ^ritou.
XimeSf
C S39 ]
Times. In that Place the good Man is reported to have
taken his laft Leave of the Virgin, when he was at the Point
of Death. Upon the Altar is the Point of the Sword, with
which the Top of the Head of that good Prelate was
wounded, and fome of his Brains that were beaten out, to
make fure Work on't. We moft religioufly kifs'd the facred
Ruft of this Weapon, out of Love to the Martyr. Leaving
this Place, we v/ent down into a Vault under-ground ^ to
that there belong two Shev/ers of Relicks. The firft thing
they fhew you, is the Skull of the Martyr, as it was bored
through j the upper Part is left open to be kifs'd, all the reft
is cover'd over v/ith Silver. There alfo is fhewn you a
leaden Plate with this Lifcription, [i] Thovtas Acrenfis,
And there hang up m. a great Place, the Shirts of Hair-cloth,
the Girdles, and Breeches, with which this Prelate ufed to
mortify his Flefh, the very Sight of v/hich is enough to
ftrike one with Horrour, and to reproach the Effeminacy
and DeHcacy of our Age. Men. Nay, perhaps of the Monks
themfelves. Ogy. That I can neither affirm nor deny, nor
does it fignify much to me. Men. You fay right, tigy.
From hence we return to the Choir. On the North Side
they open a private Place. It is incredible what a World of
Bones they brought out of it. Skulls, Chins, Teeth, Hauds,
Fingers, whole Arms, all which v/e having firft adored, kifs^d ;
nor had there been any End of it, had it not been for one of
my Fellow-Travellers, who indifcreetly interrupted the.
Officer that was fhewing them. Me7i. Who was he ? Ogy.
He was an Englifiman., his Name was Gratiaji Pullus, 'a
Man of Learning and Piety, but not fo well aftefted to this
Part of Religion as I could wiih he were. Me7i. I fancy he
was a [2] Wickliffite. Ogy. No, I believe he was not, tho' he
had read his Books ; but I don't know where he had them.
Men. Did he make the Officer angry ? Ogy. He took out
[i] Thoma Acrenfis. A certain Grammarian fays Acrenfis signifies Beckety
and folves the Difficulty thus ; Tbat Thomas Becket was of a Norman Fa-
jnily called Du Beck, Du fignifying of the, and Bee, a Neck o/Z«j;rf pret-
ty vifible in the Sea, or between two Rivers; and that xttpx fignifies the
fame in Greek, and thence Acrenfis is ufed inftead of Bee, or Bequet: The
latter Syllable he fvippofes to have been added as a Termination of fond
fpeaking to Children, as Bequet inftead of Bee.
[i] Viclevita. John IVickliff was an Engljfhmm : Before the Time of
Luther and the Reformers, he ftrenuoufly oppofed many Errors of the
Church of Rome, and his Opinions were much the fame with the Prote*
ftants in our Days ; after he had undergone a tedious Pcrfecution and Ba-
Jiifhment, he returned into his ownCountry, and died Anno 1384, or rather
1387. Forty Years after his Death, he was dug up by the Pope's Command,
and that which was fuppofed to be his Remains, was burnt, and bis iUlies
ftftl'ter'4 into the Air, or, as otfiers fay, in the Sea.
Z 2 an
[ 340 ]
an Arm having yet fome bloody Flefh up6n it ; he fhew^d a
Reludance to the kiffing it, and a Sort of Uneafinefs in his
Countenance : And prefently the Officer ftiut up all his
Relicks again. After this we view'd the Table of the
Altar, and the Ornaments ; and after that thofe things that
were laid up under the Altar : all was very rich j you would
have faid [i] MUas and Crcefus were Beggars compar'd to
them, if you beheld the great Quantities of Gold and
Silver. Men. And was there no kiffing here } Ogy. No, but
my Mind was touch'd with other Sorts of Wifhes. Men.
What were they ? Ogy. It made me figh to think I had no
fuch Relicks in my ownHoufe. Men. A facrilegious Wifh !
Ogy. I confefs it, and I humbly begg'd Pardon of the Saint,
before I fet my Foot out of the Church. After this we were
carry'd into the Veftry. Good God ! What a Pomp of Silk
Veftments was there, of Golden Candlefticks ! There we
faw alfo St. Thomas's Foot : It look'd Hke a Reed plated
over with Silver j it hath but little of Weight, and nothing of
Workmanfhip, and was longer than up to one's Girdle. Men.
Was there never a Cvofs ? Ogy. I faw none : There was z
Gown fhewn, it was Silk indeed, but coarfe, and without
Embroidery or Jewels j and a Handkerchief, ftill having
plain Marks of Sweat and Blood from the Saint's Neck. We
readily kifs'd thefe Monuments of antient Frugality. Men.
Are thefe fhewn to every Body ? Ogy. No certainly, my
good Friend. Men. How then did you come to have fuch
Credit with them, that none of their Secrets were conceal'd
from you ? Ogy. I had fome Acquaintance with the Reve-
rend Prelate [a] William Warham the Archbiffiop, and he
recommended me. Men. I have heard he was a Man of great
Humanity. Ogy. Nay, if you knew the Man, you would
take him for Humanity it felf. He was a Man of that Learn-
ing, that Candour of Manners, and that Piety of Life, that
there was nothing wanting in him to make him a moft
accomplifh'd Prelate. From hence we were conduded up
higher,- for, behind the high Altar, there is another Afcent,
as into another Church. In a certain new Chapel there
was fhewn to us the whole Face of the good Man fet in
Gold, and adorned with Jewels j and here a certain unex-
[i] Midas was a King of ^hryt^ia, who is reported to hare been extraor-
dinary rich; and if we believe the Poeti, be obcain'd of Bacchus this Pri-
vilege, that whatfoever he touch'd fhould be tuin'd into Gold.
[a] Gulielmo Waramo. The Time that Erafmus made this Vifit, was
about the Beginning of the Reign oi Henry the Eighth, before he threw off
the Papal Yoke efore wbicli Time Warham died,
pe(9;ed
[ 341 ]
• pe£led Chance had near interrupted all our Felicity. Men.
I want fadly to hear what miichievous Matter this was.
Ogy. My Friend Gratiax loft himfelf here extremely. After
a fhort Prayer, he fays to the Affiftant of him that fhew'd
us the Reliques, Good Father, is it true, as I have heard,
that Thomas, while he liv'd, was very charitable to the Poor ?
Very true, replies he, and began to relate a great many
Inftances of his Charity. Then, anfwers Gratian, I don't
believe that good Inchnation in him is changed, unlefs it be
for the better. The Officer aflented. Then, fays he again,
if this holy Man was fo liberal to the Poor, when he was a
poor Man himfelf, and flood in need of Charity for the
Support of his own Body, don't you think he would take
it well now, when he is grown fo rich, and wants nothing,
if fome poor Woman having a Family of Children at home
ready to ftarve, or Daughters in danger of being under a
neceffity to proftitute themfelves for want of Portions, or a
Husband fick in Bed, and deftitute of all Comforts ; if fuch
a Woman fhould ask him Leave to make bold with fome
fmall Portion of thefe vaft Riches, for the Relief of her
Family, taking it either as by Confent, or by Gift, or by way
of Borrowing ? The Affiftant making no Anfwer to this,
Gratian being a warm Man, I am fully perfuaded, fays he,
that the good Man would be glad at his Heart, that when he
is dead he could be able to relieve the Neceffities of the Poor
with his Wealth. Upon this the Shewer of the Relicks began
to frown, and to pout out his Lips, and to look upon us as if
[i] he would have eaten us up^ and I don't doubt but he
would have fpit in our Faces, and have turn'd us out of the
Church by the Neck and Shoulders, but that we had the
Archbifhop's Recommendation. Indeed t did in fome mea-
fure pacify him with good Words, telling him, that Gratiaji
did not fpeak this from his Heart, but had a drolling Way
with him ^ and alfo laid down a Htde Money. Men. Indeed
I exceedingly approve of your Piety. But I fometimes feri-
oufly think on't, how they can poffibly excufe themfelves
from being guilty of a Fault, who confume fuch vaft Sums m.
building, beautifying, and enriching Churclies, fetting no
Bound to their Expences. I allow that there ought to be a
Dignity in the facred Veftments, the VefiTels of a Church,
agreeable to the folemn Service ; and would have the Struc-
ture of it to have a certain Air of Majefty. But to what
[i] Goygoneis oculis. The Gordons were the Daughters of P'^orcut, of
a terrible Afpefi:. Verfeus cut ofF the Head of Medufa, the chief of them,
and ufing it for a Buckler, turn'd his Enemies that look'd upon it jnto
Stones.
Z 3 purpofc
C 34^ ]
purpofe are fo many golden Fonts, fo many Candleflricks^
and fo many Images ? To what Purpole is fuch a Profufion
of Expence upon Organs, as they call them ? Nor are we
indeed content with one Pair. What fignify thofe Concerts
of Mufick, hired at fo great an Expence ; when in the mean
time our Brothers and Sifters, Chrift's living Temples, are
ready to perifh for Hunger and Thirft ? Ogy. There is no
Man, either of Piety or Wifdom, but would wifh for a
Moderation in thefe Matters ;, but fince this Error proceeds
from a certain Extreme of Piety, it deferves fome Favour,
efpecially when we refleft on the other hand, on the contrary
Error of others, who rob Churches rather than build them
up. They are commonly endow'd by great Men and
Monarchs, who would employ the Money worfe in Gaming,
or War. And moreover, if you take any thing away from
the Church, in the firft Place it is accounted Sacrilege ; and
in the fQcond Place, it fhuts up the Hands of thofe who had
an Inclination to give ; and befides, it is a Temptation to
Rapine. The Churchman are rather Guardians of thefe
things than Matters of them. And laftly, I had rather fee
a Church luxuriant with facred Furniture, than as fome of
them are, naked and fordid, more like Stables than Churches.
Men. But we read, that the Bifliops of old were com-
mended for felling the facred Veflels, and relieving the Poor
with the Money. Ogy. And fo they are commended at this
Day; but they are only commended ; for I am of the Mind,
they neither have the Power, nor the Will, to follow the
Example. Men. But I hinder your Narration, I now expedt
to hear the Conclufion of your Story. Ogy. Well! you fhall
have it, and I'll be very brief. Upon this, out comes the
Head of the College. Men. Who was he ? the Abbot of
the Place? Ogy. He wears a Mitre, and has the Revenue
of an Abbot, he wants nothing but the Name ; he is call'd
the Trior J becaufe the Archbifhop is in the Place of an
Abbot. For in old time, every one that was an Archbifhop
of that Diocefe, was a Monk. Men. I did not matter if I
was call'd a Camel, if I had but the Revenue of an Abbot.
Ogy. He feem'd to me to be a godly and prudent Man, and
not unacquainted with the Scotch Divinity. He open'd us the
Box, in which the Remainder of the Holy Man's Body is
faid to reft. Men. Did you fee the Bones ? Ogy. That is
not permitted, nor can it be done without a Ladder. But a
wooden Box covers a golden one, and that being craned up
with Ropes, difcovers an ineftimable Treafure. Men. What
fay you? Ogy. Gold was the bafeft Part. Every thing
fparkled and iliined with very large and fcarce Jewels, fome
of
[ 343 ]
of them bigger than a Goofe's Egg. There fome Monks
ftood about with the greateft Veneration. The Cover being
taken off, we all worltiip'd. The Prior, with a white Wand,
touched every Stone one by one, telling us the Name in
French, the Value of it, and who was the Donor of it. The
Principal of them were the Prefents of Kings. Meti. He
had need to have a good Memory. Ogy. You guefs right,
and yet Praftice goes a great way, for he does this frequently.
Hence he carried us back into a Vault. There the Virgin
Mary has her Reiidence ; it is fomething dark, it is doubly
raird in and encompafifed about with Iron Bars. Men. What
is fhe afraid of ? Ogy. Nothing, I fuppofe, but Thiaves.,
And I never in my Life faw any thing more laden with
Riches. Men. You tell me of Riches in the Dark. Ogy.
Candles being brought in, we faw moi e than a Royal Sight.
Men. What does it go beyond the Parathalajjian Virgin in
Wealth r Ogy. It goies far beyond in Appearance. What is
concealed fhe knows beft. Thefe Things are (hewn to none
but great Perfons, or peculiar Friends. In the end, we were
carried back into the Veftry : There was pulled out a Chelt
covered with black Leather ; it was fet upon the Table, and
opened. 1 hey all fell down on their Knees, and worfhipped.
Men. What was in it ? Ogy. Pieces of Linen Rags, a great
many of them retaining flill the Marks of the Snot. Thefe
were thofe, they fay, that the holy Man ufed to wipe the
Sweat off from his Face and Neck with, the Snot out of his
Nofe, or any other fuch Sort of Filth which human Bodies
are not free from. Here again my Gratian behaved himfelf
in none of the moft obliging Manners. For the gentle Prior
offered to him, being an Engli^^wan.^ an Acouaintance, and
a Man of confiderable Authority, one of the Rags for a
Prefent, thinking he hid pvefented him with a very accepta-
ble Gift ; but Gratian unthankfuUy took it fqueamiiHy in
his Fingers, and laid it down with an Air of Contempt,
making up his Mouth at it, as if he would have fmack'd k.
For this was his Cultom, if any thing came in his way that
he would exprefs his Contempt to. I was both afhamed and
afraid. Neverthelefs the good Prior, tho' not infenfiblc of
the Affront, feemed to take no Notice of it ; and after he
had civilly en^^ertained us with a Glafs of Wine, dilmifled
us, and we went back to 'London. Men. What need was
there for that, when you were not far from [i] your own
Shore ? Ogy. I was not, but I induftrioufly fhunned that
Ci] oiLittore tuo. That is, the ^el^ick or 'Dutch.
Z 4. Shore,
[ 344 ]
[i] Shore, it being more infamous for Cheats and Rapines
than any [2] Rocks are for Shipwrecks. I'll tell you what
I faw in ray laft Pailage that Way. There were a pretty
many of us upon the Shore of Calais, who were carried
thence in a Chaloupe to a large Ship. Among the reft
there was a young 'Ere?tchman that was poor and ragged, and
t'ney demanded Two-pence for his Paffage \ for fo much they
Will have if they carry you but a Boat's Length : He pleaded
Poveri^y. They in a Frolick would needs fearch him, and
having pulled off his Shoes, they find ten or twelve Pieces of
Silver between the Soles. They took the Money, laugh'd at
him to his Face, and banter'd the frenchman as a Cheat into
the Bargain. Men. What did the Fellow do then ? Qgy.
What fiiouid he do but lament his Misfortune ? Men. Do
they do thefe Things by Authority ? Ogy. By the fame Au-
thor i:y' that they fteal the Baggage ot a Gueft in his Inn, or'
take his Purfe upon the Road, if they find an Opportunity.
Me'7. It is very ftran'?;e that they dare to commit fuch
Villainy before fo many WitnefTes. Ogy. They are fo ufed
to it, that they think they do well in it. There were many
in the great Ship who looked on, and fome Englifi Mer-
chancs hi -^he Boat, who grumbled at it j but to no Purpofe.
They boafted of it as a Piece of Wit in catching the French-
r-an in his Roguery. Men. I would hang up thofe Coaft
Tnieves, and laugh at them, and banter them at the Gallows.
Ogy. Nay, bo.h^Shores abound with fiich Fellows. Hence
I make this Improvement, If the little Thieves dare to
do thus, what will their Mafi:ers do ? So that I had rather,
for theFiKure, go ever fo far about than that fhorteft Way.
And befides, as the Defcent to Hell is eafy, but the Return
is difficult: ,• fo the Entrance of this Shore is not very eafy,
and the getting out of it very difficult. There were at Lon-
don fome Skippers belonging to Antvierp ; fo I determined
to take Pafifage with them. Men. Are the Skippers of that
Country any better than others Ogy. I confefs, as an Ape
will always be an Ape, fo a Skipper v/ill always be a Skipper :
But ii you compare them to thofe that Uve upon the Catch,
they are Angels. Me?t. I fhall remember it, if I ever have
a Mind to vifit that Ifland. But go on again, I have led
you out of the Way. Ogy. In our Journey to London, not
far from Canterbury, there's a narrow, hollow, fteep Way>
and a cragged, fteep Bank on either Side, fo that you can't
[1] Littu! illud. The Shores of ©oTfr and Calais^ where he had fuffered
and fcen what the Sailors did to the poor Frenchman.
Iz] Malent is a Promontory of Laconia, of old Time noted for Shipwrecks.'
cfcapc
C 345 1
efcape it ; for there is no other Way to go. Upon the left
Hand of that Way, there is a little Cottage of old Mendi-
cants. As foon as they efpy a Man on Horfeback coming,
one of them runs out, and fprinkles him with holy Water,
and then offers him the upper Leather of a Shoe, with a
Brafs Ring to it, in which is a Glafs, as if it were fome
Gem. Having kifTed it, you give a fmall Piece of Money.
Men. In fuch a Way, I had rather meet with a Cottage of old
Mendicants, than a Gang of lufty Foot Pads. Ogy. Gratian
rode on my left Hand, next to this Cottage ; he was fprinkled
with holy Water, and took it pretty well j but upon prefent-
ing the Shoe, he ask'd what was meant by that ? This,
fays the poor Man, was St. Thomas's Shoe. Grattaji fell
into a Paffion, and turning to me, faid. What would thefe
Brutes have ? Will they make us kifs the Shoes of all that
have been good Men ? Why do they not as well give us their
Spittle, and the other Excrements of their Bodies, to kifs ?
I pitied the poor old Man, and comforted him, being for-
rowful, by giving him a little Money. Men. In my Opi-
nion, Gratian was not angry altogether without a Caufe. If
thefe Shoes and Slippers were preferved as an Argument of
Moderation in Uving, I fhould not diilike it : But I think it
a Piece of Impudence, to thruft Slippers, and Shoes, and
' Stockings, upon any one to be kiflfed. If any one fhall do
it of their own free Choice, from a great Affection to Piety,
I think they deferve to be left to their own Liberty. Ogy.
Not to diffemble, I think thofe Things had better be let
alone ^ but in thofe Matters that cannot be mended on a
fudden, it is my way to make the beft of them. In the
meafi Time my Mind was delighted with this Contemplation,
that a good Man was like a Sheep, and a wicked Man like
a hurtful Beaft. A Viper indeed cannot bite when it is dead,
yet it is infeftious by its Stink and Corruption. A Sheep,
while it lives, nourifhes us with its Milk, cloaths us with
its Wool, and enriches us by its Increafe ; when it is dead,
it fupplies us with Leather, and is every Part of it fit to be
eaten. In like Manner, Men that are furious and devoted
to this World, while they live are troublefome to all Perfons,
and when they are dead, are a Difturbance to thofe that are
alive, with the Noife of the Bells and a pompous Funeral ;
and fometimes to their SuccefiTors at their entring upon their
Pofleffions, by caufing new Exactions. But good Men make
themfelves profitable, in all refpeds, to the whole World.
As this Saint, while he was alive, by his Example, his
Dodrine, and Admonitions, invited to Piety, comforted the
Friendlefs, fuccoured the Needy i fo now he is dead, he is in
fome
C 34^1
tome fort more ufeful. He buik this magnificent Church,
and advanced the Authority of the Prieithood all over E»^-
land : And now, after all, this Fragment of his Shoe main?
tains a Conventicle oi poor Men. Men. That indeed is a
very pious Con:emp!ation •. But I admire, lince you are of
this Mind, rhai you never went to fee [i] St. Patrick's Den,
of which the People fay fo many prodigious Things, that I
can fcarce think likely to be true. Ogy Nay, there is no
Report of it can be fo prodigious, but that the Thing itfelf
exceeds it. Men. Why then, did you ever enter into it ?
Ogy. Yes, I have ferried over a Lake ti-uly Stygian, and de-
fcended into the very Jaws of Avemus, and feen all that is
done in Hell. Men. You'll blefs me, if you fliall not think
much to relate it. Ogy. I think this Preface of our Dif-
courfe has been prolix enough. I am going Home to give
Order to get Supper ready ; for I have not dined yet. Men.
Why have you had no Dinner ? Is it upon a religious Ac-
count ? Ogy. No, but out of Spite. Men. What, do you
fpite your Belly ? Ogy. No, but unconfcionable Viduallers,
who, altho' they ferve you with what is not fit to be eaten,
make no fcruple of demanding for it an unreafonable Price.
This is the way that I revenge myfelf on them : If I am
in Hope of a good Supper, either at an Acquaintance's, or
at an Eating-Houfe, that is any thing tolc able, my Stomach
fails me at Dinner. If Fortune throws in my Way a Dinner,;
fiich as I like, then my Stomach fails me at Supper-Time,'^
Men. And are you not afhamed to be fo ftingy and fneaking ?
Ogy. Believe me, Menedemus, in fuch Cafes as this, thofe
that makeUfe of their Modefty, employ it to a wrong Ufe.
I have learned to keep my BafhfulneH for other Purpofes.
Men. I do e'en long for the Remainder of your Story, and
therefore exped me at Supper, and there you may tell it
more at Leifure. Ogy. In Truth, I give you Thanks for
taking the Freedom to invite yourfelf, when many who are
invited with Earneftnefs, v/on't accept of it : But I will
thank you over and over, if you fliall fup at Home to Night j
for my Time will be taken up in congratulating my Family.
But I have Advice to give you that will be more commo-
[i] SanSii 'Patricii cAntrum. This is faid to have been in the Ifland
Daheoc, which is in the Lake Derg, in the founty oi Fermana!!,h^ at the
North Part oi Ireland : A Place mif>htily boafted ot by the Irip^ befoie the
Hcformation ; to which the Lifh lefort, either to atcne for their Sin^
according to the Command of their ConfeflTors ; or fecondly, in hopes of
obtaining fpeeial Fayouis from tlwir belovcel St. 'Patricius; or that having
*1one Penance there, and performed other Ceremonies, th«y may efcape
¥iirgatory, and go direftly ut Ueavcn,
dious
[ 347 ]
<3ious for us both. Do you provide a Dinner at your Houfc
for me and ray Wife to-morrow, and I'll proceed in my
Story till Supper-time, till you fhall fay, you have your
Belly-full J and if you are contented fo, we woff*t leave you
at Supper neither. What, do you fcratch your Head ? Do
you but make Provifion, and I'll give you my Word we will
come without fail. Men. I Hke Stories bell gratis. How-
ever, come, I'll provide a Dinner for you, but it Ihall be an
unfavoury one, if you don't make it relifhing with your Sto-
ries. Ogy. But hark ye, han't I fet you a-gog to go on Pil-
grimages } Men. Perhaps you may, by that time you have
finifh'd your Relation j but as I find my felf at prefent, I
have enough to do to travel my [i] 'Roman Stations. Ogy.
^oman ones, you who never faw Rome ? Men. I'll tell you,
after that manner I walk about my Houfe, I go to my
Study, and take care of my Daughter's Chaftity j thence I
go into my Shop, and fee what my Servants are doing;
then into the Kitchen, and fee if any thing be amifs there;
and fo from one Place to another, what my Wife, and what
my Children are doing, taking care that every one be at his
Bufinefs. Thefe are my Roman Stations. Ogy. But St. Ja-mes
would take care of thefe things for you. Men. The Holy
Scriptures enjoin me to look after them my felf, but I do
not find any Text to leave them to the Saints.
[i] StatioHes Komanas. Statio is a Word of a wide Signification ; but
Erafmus probably refers to the Stations, Walks, or Proceffions, mad€ in
Rome in certain Churches, or in the Streets, before Reliques, (§c. with
Prayers to obtain the Favour of God, and the Saints, or Indulgences.
I X ® T 0-
[348 3
IX0TO$Ar£A.
, The Argument:
7hi$ Colloquy contains an ingenious Difcourfe eoneermng hu-
man Confiitutionsy lubich, tho' not altogether to be rejec-
ted) yet are not to be fo much fet by as fome Terfons do,
•who in a manner prefer them before the divine Law it
felf. Others again-, abufe both divine and human Confii-
tutionsj making them ferve their own Vrofit and tyran-
nical Difpofition. What Terfons^ and how far humafi
Confiitutions are binding-, what they conduce to, and how
much they differ from divirie. The prepofterous Judgment
of Women concerning them is blamed. Many Incommo-
aities proceed from eating of Fijh, not only to Bodies, but
aljb to Minds. The barbarous Cruelty of them that forbid
the UJe of Flejh to fickly Terfom. Why the ceremanial
Law was abolijbed. The Pontifical Laws require things
wore burdenfome than the Ceremonial Laws of the Jews.
The Cufiom of baptizing new-born Infants is reprehended.
The Vopifij Ceremonies are a great Obftacle to many from
embracing the Chrifiian Religion. That there might be a
general Peace in the Chrifiian World, if the Emperor
•would remit fomethiyjg of his Right, and the Pope fome-
thing of his. The God Terminus, what he is. Humafi
Laws are not binding of themfelves. God commayids
nothing injurious to the Health either of Soul or Body,
xot fo much as fafiing. The common Cufiom of Mankind
is to fear and reverence God and his Worfinp, lefs than
Man.
A BUTCHER and a salt-fishmonger:
B»?.npELL me, filly Seller of Salt-Fifh, han't you bought
X a Halter yet ? F//&. A Halter, Butcher ? But.
Yes, I fay an Halter. Fifij. For what? But. To hang
your fclf with. Pifij. Let them buy Halters that want them,
I'm
[ 34P 3
I'm not weary of my Life yet. But, But you will be
weary of it quickly. Fijb. God fend that may rather be
your Cafe than mine. What's the Matter? But. I'll tell
you, if you don't know. Here's a Time coming upon you,
that you and your Brother Tradefmen will be all ftarV'd
[il to Death, and ready to hang your felvesoutof the Way.'
Fiffj. Eafy, eafy. Butcher, God fend this may be our Enemies
Cafe, and not ours. But prithee. Butcher, how came yoii
to be a Fortune-teller all on a fudden, to divine fuch a Ca-
lamity ? But. 'Tis no Guefs-work, I promife you ,• do not
flatter your fclf, 'tis matter of Fadt. Fifi.-, You fright me
out of my Wits ; if you have any thing to fay, let us have i£
out. J3«/^. I'll tell you to your Coll. Here's a Difpenfation
of the College of Cardinals coming out, for every Body to
eat what he lifts. Then what wiU you and your Fraternity
do, but be ftarved to Death in the midft of your Heaps of
ftinking Salt-fifli ? Fijh. They that have a-mind to it may
feed upon Snails or Nettles, with all my Heart. But is there
a Prohibition that no Body flaall eat Fifh ? But. No, But
every Body is at Liberty to eat Flefli, that has a-mind to it-
Fijb. If what you predidt be true, you rather deferve to be
hang'd than I j and if it be falfe, you have more need to
buy a Halter. For I hope for a better Trade for the future.
But. You may have Stock enough by you, but your Belly's full
of Fafting. But if you'll fiear the beft of the Story, you may
live a little cleanlier than you ufed to do, and <»not have
Occafion to wipe your fnotty, fcabby Nofe upon your Elbow.
Fi^j. Ha, ha, now it is come out at laft : The Kettle calls
the Pot Black-arfe. Is there any Part of a Butcher cleaner
and fweeter than his Backfide ? I wifh what you fay were
true, but I'm afraid you only feed me with Fancies. But.
What I tell you is too true to make a Jeft on. But, prithee,
how do you promife your felf a better Trade upon this Con-
fideration ? FiJh. Becaufe People are of that Humour, that
they are moft delirous of that which is forbidden. But.
What then ? Fi/h. When they are at Liberty to eat Flefli,
they will eat leaft of it ; and then no Entertainment will be
accounted noble, but what has Fifh at it, as it ufed to be in
old time : So I fhall be glad if there be a Licence to eat
Flefh. And I wifh heartily that the eating Fifh were forbid-
den too, then People would covet it more earneftly. But.
Well wifli'd indeed. I fhould wifh fo too if I were like
[i] Saguntina fames. Saguntum a City of Spain, being befieg'd by the
Curthaj^iniam^ was rcduc'd to the utmoft Degree of Famine.
you,
i 330 ]
you, and aim'd at nothing but getting Money, for the fake of
which thou fend eft that lumpim, flefh-fed Soul of thine to
the Devil. But. You are very fmart upon me, but what you
fay is very filly. Fi(Ix What is it puts the See of Rome upon
the relaxing the Law for prohibiting eating of Flefh, that has
been obferved for fo many Ages ? But. Why, indeed, they
have had a mind to do it a great while ago, and for this
Reafbn, That they think, as it really is, that the City is
defiled by Salt-fifhmongers ; the Land, the Waters, Rivers,
Air, and Fire are infeded, and all the other Elements, if
there be any more. Mens Bodies corrupted, and filled with
putrid Humours by the eating of Fifli ; from whence proceed
Fevers, Confumptions, Gouts, FaUing-ficknefles, Leprofies,
and what not of Difeafes. Fijb. But prithee tell me. Hippo-
eratesy how it comes to pafs, that in well-govern'd Cities it is
forbid to kill Oxen and Hogs within the Walls of the City ?
For it would tend more to the Healthfulnefs of the City, if
tliey were reftrain'd from killing Sheep in it too. Why is
there a certain Place appointed for Butchers apart from
others, but left if they had Liberty to rove about, and fettle
any where, they lliould infe6t the whole City ? Is there any
Kind of Stink fo peftilential as that of the corrupted Blood
and Gore of Beafts ? But. They are mere Perfumes com-
pared to ftinlcing Fifh. Fijh. You, perhaps, may thinl< them
Perfumes, but it is a Sign the Magiftrates thought otherwife
that expell'd you the City. Befides that, how fragrant your
Slaughter-houfes fmell is very plainly feen, by Peoples flop-
ping their Nofes when they pafs by them, and that they had
rather have ten Bawds for their Neighbours, than one
Butcher. But. Whole Ponds and Rivers are little enough
for you to wafh your ftinking Salt-fifti in ; for, as the old Say-
ing is, Tou do but attetnpt to luafb the Blackmoor white j for a
Fifh will always fmell like a Fifh, tho' you perfume it. Nor
is it to be wonder'd at, that they fmell fo ftrong when they
are dead, when many ftink alive, and as foon as they are
taken. Flefli, pickled up, Is fo far from ftinking, that it
may be prclerved many Years, and fmell as fweet as a
.Violet at laft. Nay, being but faked up with common Salt,
will never ftink i and being hung up a drying in Smoke, or
Wind, will have no ill Scent. But do what you will to a
Fifh it will fmell like a Fifh ftill. . It is evident, there is no
Stink to be compared to that of Fifh; that Fifli corrupts
even Salt itfelf, which was given for the very End of pre-
ferving things from Putrefaction, by fhutting, binding up,
and alfo fgrcing out that which fhould produce any thing
naufeous, and drying up the Humours within, from whence
C 3^3 ]
Putrefa<5lion might come : Fifh is the only Thing on which
Sail lofes its Efficacy. It may be fome nice Beau or other
may ftop his Nofe as he paffes by a Butcher's Shop, but no
Body can bear to be m the Boar where your Salt-filh is. If
a Traveller chance to meet a Cart loaden uith Salt-fifh on
the Road, how does he run away, ftop hh Nofe, hauk and
fpit, and curfe the ftinking Cargo ? And if it were poilible
that Salt-filh could be carried fvveet into the Ciiy, as we do
our Beef, when killed and dreffed, the Law would be laid
alide. But beiides, what can you fay as to them that ftink
while they are eaten ? And befides, how often do we fee
your condemn'd Ware thrown into the Rivers by the Clerks
of the Markets, and a Fine put upon you for felling it ? And
we fhould fee that oftner, but that th^y, co'-rupted by you,
don't fo much regard the City's Good, as their own Profit,
Nor is this the only Thing that you are notorious for ,* but
befides that, there is a wicked Combination among you, to
binder frefh from coming to Town. Fijb Pray, did no Body
ever know a Butcher fined for killing meafled Pork, or
felUng Mutton drowned in a Dixh, or maggotty Shoulders
of Mutton dawb'd over with freih Blood, to make 'em look
as if new killed ? But. But no Body ever knew fuch an In-
ftance of us as has been known by you lately, that nine Per-
Ipns were poifoned by one Eel baked in a Pie : And this is
what you furnifli Citizens Tables with. Fijh. What yoa
fpeak of was an Accident, and no Body can help that, when
it pleafes God it fhall faU out fo. But 'tis a daily Pradice
with you to fell young Cats for Rabbits, and Puppies for
Hares, if People don't know 'em by their Ears, and rough
Feet J not to fpeak of your Meat-Pies made of dead Mens
Flefh. But. That which you charge me with is the Failings
of Men in common ; and let them defend themfelves that
are guilty of the Fault : I make my Comparifon between
Gain and Gain. By the fame Reaion you may condemn
Gardeners, who, by Miftake, fell Henbane for Coleworts;
or Apothecaries, who adminifter Poifon inftead of Antidotes-
There is no Trade, or Calling, that is not liable to thefe
Miftakes. But you, when you ad the moft faithfully in
your Calling, fell that which is Poifon. If indeed you fold
a Cramp -Fifh, a Water - Snake, or a Sea -Hare, catch'd
among other Fifh, it would be an Accident rather than a
Fault. Nor do I think it any more to be imputed to you,
than to a Phyfician, that fometimes kills the Patient he un-
dertakes to cure. And this might be excufable, if you only
put off your ftinking Wares in the Winter Seafon ; then the
Gold might mitigate the Contagioufnefs of Infedion : But
yoa
[350
you add putrid Matter to the Fire of the Summer Seafdn,
and render Autumn, which is of itfelf a fickly Seafon, more
fickly. And in the Spring of the Year, when the Humours-
that have been lock'd up begin to flow, to the Hazard of the
Body, then for two whole Months you exercife your Tyran-
ny, and corrupt the Infancy of the fpringing Year, by bring- '
ing an old Age upon it : And when Nature is bufied to
purge the Body from unwholfome Juices, and make it frefli
and blooming with new, you throw into it more Stinks and '
Corruption ; fo that if there be any vitious Humours in the .
Body, you increafe 'em, adding worfe to bad, and not only
fo, but corrupting the good Juices of the Body. But this
might be borne with too, if you only injured the Body j but
inafmuch as by different Foods the Organs of the Mind are
vitiated, you vitiate the very Minds themfelves. So that
do but mind your Fifh-eaters, how like Fiflies do they look,
pale, {linking, ftupid and mute ? Fijb. O rare [i] Thales !
But prithee, how wife are they that live upon Beets ? juft
as much as the Beets themfelves. What Sort of Fellows
are they that feed upon Beef, Mutton, and Goats Flefh ?
truly, like Oxen, Sheep, and Goats themfelves. You fell
Kids for a mighty Delicacy, and yet this Creature is very
bad for the Falling-Sicknefs, and brings that Diftemper upon
the Flefh-eaters. Were it not better to fatisfy a craving
Appetite with Salt-Filli ? Bui. Do you think then that all
that your Naturalifts write is true ? But were what they fay
ever fo true, it is certain, that to fome Perfons that are
inclinable to Difeafes, thofe things that are good of them-
felves, prove hurtful. We fell Kids for thofe that are
troubled with the Hedick, or Phthifick, but not for thofe that
have the Vapours. Fip. If the eating ot Fifh be fo prejudi-
cial, as you would infinuate, how comes it about, that our
Superiors permit us to fell our Ware the whole Year, and
make you keep Holy-day for a good Part of it } But. That's
none of my Bufinefs to anfwer. But it may be, this was
the Contrivance of wicked Dodors, that they might get the
more Money. Fijh. I don't know what Doctors chey are
that you fpeak of j for I am fure none are greater Enemies
to Fifh than they are. But. Goodman Coxcomb, to fet you
right in this Matter, it is not for your Sake, nor the Lovs
of Fifh j -tor none are more averfe than they to the eating it,
"but 'tis their own Game they play. The more. People are
troubled with Coughs, Confumptions, and Chronick Diftem-
[0 Thaks.^ Tbakt was the firft, cr cbief, of tkc Wife Men of Greece.
pers,
C sss ]
p&rs, the more they get by it. Vifi. I won't advocate for
Dodors in this Matter ^ let them avenge their own Quarrel,
when they get thee into their Clutches. The ancient San6ti-
mony of Life, the Authority of the moft Approved, the
Majefty of Bifhops, and the publick Ufage of Chriftian Na-
tionsj are enough for myPurpofe: All which, if you tax
of Madnefs, I had rather be mad with them than be
fober with Butchers. Biit. You decline being an Advocate
for Dodtors, and fo do I to be an Accufer or Cenfurer of the
Antients, or common Cuilora. Thofe it is my Cuftom to
revere, but not revile. Fijh. You're more cautious than
pious in this Point, or Fm miftaken in you, Butcher. But.
In my Opinion, they are the wifeft, that have leaft to do
with thofe that carry Thunderbolts in their Hands. But
however, I won't conceal what I underftand from my Bible,
tranflated into my Mother Tongue, that I fometimes read
in. Fi(Ij. What now, the Butcher's turn'd Parfon too } But.
I am of the Opinion, that Mankind, in the firft Ages, being
newly form'd "out of primitive Clay, were of more healthful
Conititutions. This appears by their Vivacity. More than
that, I believe, Paradife was a Place commodioufly (ituated,
and fh a very healthy Climate. Such Bodies, in fuch a Si-
tuation, might be fuftained without Food, by breathing the
very Air, and Fragrancy of Herbs, Trees, and Flowers, that
exhaled every where, and efpecially the Earth, fpontaneoufly
producing all things in Abundance, without Man's Sweatmg
or Toiling, who was neither infefted vath Diftempers, nor
Old Age. The DreiTing of fuch a Garden was not a Toil,
but rather a Pleafure. Fill. Hitherto you feem to be right.
But. Of the various Increafe of fo fertile a Garden nothing
was prohibited, but the Ufe of one fmgle Tree. FiJJj.
That's true too. But. And that for this Reafon only, That
they might pay their Acknowlegement to their Lord and
Creator by Obedience. FiJJj. All this is very right. But.
Moreover, I verily believe, that the new Earth produced
every thing better in its Kind, and of a more nutritive
Juice, than it does now, grown old, and almoft paft Bear-
ing. Fiflj. Well, I grant it. Take that for granted. But.
And that efpecially in Paradife. Fi[Jj. It is very probable.
But. If fo, then Eating was rather for the Sake of Pleature,
than Neceffity. Fi(J:!. I havelieard fo. But. At that time
to abftain from eating Flefh, was rather Humanity than
Sandity. FiJJj. I don't know. I read that the Eating of
Flefli was permitted after the Flood, but I don't read ic
was forbidden before : But to what Purpofe were it, to
permit itj if it were permitted before } But. Why don't
A a we
[
354 3
we eat Frogs ? Not becaule they are forbidden, but becaufe
we have an Averiion to them. How can you tell, whether
God might not inftrud Man what Food human Nature re-
quired, and not what he permitted ? Tip. I can't divine.
But. But prefently after Man's Creation, we read, Rule ye
ever the Fijb of the Sea, the Fowls of the Air, and every'
lit'ing Creature that woveth upon the Face of the 'Earth.
What Ufc was there of the Government of 'em, if it were
not lawful to eat them ? Fifli. O cruel Mafter ! Do you eat
your Men and Maid-Servants, your Wife and Children ?
Why don't you, at the fame time, eat your Chamber-Pot ?
for you are Mafter of that too. But. But, prithee, hear
me again, thou filly Sak-fiflimonger. There is a real Ufe
of other things, and not a bare Name of Dominion only.
A Horfe carries me upon his Back, and a Camel my Baggage ?
but v/hat Ufe are Fifh of, but to be eaten ? Fiflj. As if there
were not abundance of Fifli that are good for Phyiick. And
befides, there are a great many that were created merely
for the Sake of Contemplation, and to carry us forth to ad-
mire their Creator. It may be, you don't believe that Dol-
phins carry Men on their Backs. In the laft Place, there are
lome Fifh that are ufeful to foretell a Tempeft, as the Echi-
nus, or Sea-Urchin', and would you not wifh to have fuch a
Servant in your own Houfe ? Btit. Suppofe that be granted,
that before the Flood it was not lawful to eat any Food, but
the Fruits of the Earth ; it was no great matter to abftain
from thofe Things the Neccuity of the Body did nor require,
and in the Killing of which was Cruelty ; yet you will allow,
that in the Beginning, the Eating of living Creatures was
permitted, by reafon of the Weaknefs of human Bodies. The
Deluge had brought in a cold Tem.perament ; and at this
time we fee, thofe that live in cold Climates, are greater
Eaters than others in hotter ', and the Flood had either quite
defcroy'd, or at leafl fpoiled, the Products of the Earth,
Fifo. That is granted. But. And yet, after the Deluge,
they lived above 2.00 Years. Vlfa. I believe they did. But.
Why then did God afterwards, as I/^ofes commanded, tie up
Perrons of a weaker Conft itution, and fhorter-liv'd, to fome
particular kinds of living Creatures, which he permitted to
thofe of a frronger, without Exception } Fijh. Juft as if it
were my Province to give a Reafon for what God did ! But
I believe, that God did then, as ^'Iafters do now, who con-
tradt their Indulgence towards their Servants, when they fee
them abufe their Lenity. So v/e forbear to feed a Horfe
with Oats and Beans, when he grov/s pamper'd, and too
mettlefome, give him Hay more fparingly, and ride him
with
C 3SS ]
with a curb Bridle, and a iliarper Spur. Mankind had
thrown off all Reverence of the Deity, and lived as licen-
tioufly, as if there was no God^ at all. Upon this account,
the Lattices of the Law, and Bars of Ceremonies, the Bri-
dles of Threatnings and Precepts, were made ufe of, to
bring them to loiow themfelves. But. What then, do thofe
Bars of the Law hold us in at this Day too ? FiJ/j. In^
much as the Afperity of carnal Servitude is removed, we
being by the Gofpel adopted Sons of God : there being an
Augmentation of Grace, there is a Diminution of the Num-
ber of Precepts. But. How comes it to pafs, that when
God calls his Covenant everlaflring, and Chrift denies that he
diflblved the Law, but fulfilled it; by what Confidence, I
fay, do Men of After- Ages cfare to abrogate good part of it ?
Fijh. That Law was not given to the Gentiles j and there-
fore it feemed meet to 'the Apoftles, not to burden them
with the Load of Circumcifion, left, as the Jeius, even at
this Day, do, they fhould rather place the Hope of their
Salvation in corporal Obfervances, than in Faith and Love
towards God. But. I forbear to fpeak of the Gi?;2^i/(?x j v/hat
Scripture is there, that fays plainly of the Jews^ that
if they did embrace the Gofpel, they Oiould be freed from
the Servitude of the Mofaical Lav/ ? Fifi. That was pro-
phefied by the Prophets, who promife a new Covenant and
a new Heart, and introduce God, as abhorring the Feftival
Days of the Je-wsj averfating their Meat-Offerings, abhor-
ring their Fafts, reje(9;ing their Gifts, and defiring a People
of circumcifed Hearts; and the Lord himfeif confirmed
what they had promifed, who, holding forth to his Dilci-
ples his Body and Blood, calls it the Nevj Tefiamejit. If
nothing be abolifhed of the old, why is this called a new
one ? The Lord did not only abrogate the yeiuijh Choice of
Meats by his Example, but by his Dodrine ; when he de-
nies that Man is defiled by Meats which go into the Stomachj
and pafs thence into . the Draught. He teaches Veter the
fame by a Vifion : And Veter himfeif fhews the fame, in
that he, with Taul and others, eat of common Meats, from
v/hich the Law commanded them to abftain. Vaul treats
'm. this manner every where in his Epiftles, nor is there any
doubt, but what Chriflians now praftife, was handed down
to us by Tradition from the Apoftles themfelves. So that
the Je'-j^s were not fo properly fet at liberty, as weaned
from Superftition, as from the Milk to which they had been
accuftomed and made familiar j but now was grown out
of feafon. Neither is the Law abrogated, but it is but re-
quifite, that that part of it ffiould give way, which was not
A a 2, efTencial
efTential. Leaves and Flowers befpeak Fruit coming ; and
when a Tree is loaded with that, no body covets the Leaves.
Nor is any body forry that his Son's Puerility is gone, when
Maturity of Age is come : Nor does any body call for Can-
dles and Torches, when the Sun is gotten above the Hori-
7,on : Nor does a School- mafter complain, if a Son, being
come to Man's Effcate, puts in his Claim for Freedom, and,
in his turn, has the Mafter under his Tuition. A Pledge
ceafes to be a Pledge, when the thing promifed is produ-
ced. The Spoufe comforts her felf with the Bridegroom's
IjCtters, till Ine is married j fhe kifles his Prefents, embraces
his Picture j but whenilie comes to enjoy his Company, fhe
diiregards thofe things fhe before admired for the fake of
it. The yeivs, at firlt, were very hardly brought off from
thofe things they had been accuftomed to ; which is juft as
if a Child that had been ufed to fuck, being grown a lufty
Fellow, fliouid cry for the Breaft, and flight more folia
Food. So they were forced, as it were, from thofe Figures,
Shadov/s, and temporary Comforts, that they might entirely
turn thcmfelves to him, whom that Law had promifed and
fhadowed out. But. Who would have expected fo much
Divinity from a Seller of Salt-fifli.^ Fijb. I ufed to ferve
the Dominican Colkge in our City with Fifh ^ and, by that
means, they often dine with me, and I fometimes with
themj and I gather'd thefe things from their Difcourfes.
Biit. In truth, inftead of a Seller of Salt-fifh, you deferve
to be a Seller of frefli Fifh. But prithee tell me, If you
were a y^w, (for I cannot very well tell, whether you are
one or not,) and you were like to be ftarved with Hunger^
would you eat Swine's Flefli, or rather die ? FiJJj. I can't
very well tell what I iTiould do ; for I do not yet well under-
ftand what I ought to do. But. God has forbid both j Thou
(halt not kill-) and thou (halt not eat Swine's F/eJb. In fuch
"a Cafe as this, which Precept muft give way to the other?
Fifi. In the firft place, it does not appear, that God has
forbidden the eating Swine's Flefh, meaning, that a Man
fhould rather be acceflbry to his own Death, than eat k.
For the Lord excufes DaviJ, in that he eat Shew-Bread
contrary to the Letter of the Law : And in the Bahyhnifb
Captivity, many things were omitted by the Jews.^ which
were required by the Law. Secojidljj I am of opinion, that
the Law which Nature has didated, and therefore is perpe-
tual and inviolable, ought to be accounted the more obliga-
tory, v/hich never was, nor ever will be, abrogated. But.
But v/hy ih,2n^sfextt\\Q Maccabees fo much commended, that
chcfe rather to die than eat Swine's Flefh } Fijh. I fuppofe,
becaufe
L SS7 1
becaufe this Eating being required by the King, did com-
prife in itfelf a Denial in the general of the Law of the
Country,' as Circumcifion, which the jFews endeavoured
to obtrude on the Gentiles, carried in it a ProfeflSon of the
whole Law ', juft as Money given in Earneft, obliges to the
Performance of the whole Contrad. But. Well then, if this
more grofs Part of the Law is juftly taken away, after the
Exhibition of the Gofpel, by what Authority are either the
fame, or like things, impofed upon us, cfpecially when our
Lord calls his Yoke an eafy one, and Peter, in the Affs of
the Apoftles, calls the Law of the Jeivs a hard one, which
neither they, nor their Fathers, were able to bear ? Circum-
cifion is taken away, but Baptifm came in the Room of it,
and indeed, I was about to fay, with a harder Condition.
That was deferr'd till the eighth Day, and if any thing
happen'd to the Child in that time, the Vow of Circum-
cifion was taken for Circumcifion it felf. But we dip Chil-
dren, fcarce well got out of the dark Caverns of the Mother's
Womb, all over in cold Water, which has flood a long time
in a ftony Font, (not to fay while it ftinks) and if it chance
to die upon the firft Day, or in its very Ingrefs into the
World, tho' there be no Fault neither in its Parents nor Friends,
the poor Babe is doom'd to eternal Damnation. FiJJj. They
do lay fo indeed. But. The Sabbath is abrogated , nay
indeed, not abrogated, but tranflated to the Sunday. What
does it fignify ? The Mofaick Law enjoin'd a few Faft-days ;
but what a Number have we added to them ? And as to the
Choice of Meats, how much freer were the Jews than we
are, who were at liberty to eat Sheep, Capons, Partridges^,
and Kids, all the Year round } They were forbid the Ufe of
no Garment, but what was mix'd with Linen and Woollen :
But now, befides the appointed and forbidden Forms and
Colours of a great Number of Garments, the Head mult
be fhaven too, forae after one Manner, and fome another.
Not to mention that heavy Burden of Confeffion, the Wal-
lets of human Conftitutions, Tythes, and thofe not fingle
ones neither i Matrimony skrew'd up into too narrow a
Comp'als, the new Laws of Affinity, and abundance of other
things, which render the yeivs Circumflances much more
eafy than ours. Fi/h. Indeed, Butcher, you are much out
of the Way, the Yoke of Chrifl is not to be accounted for
by that Rule you imagine. A Chriftian is tyed up in many
Points, and to harder Circumftances, and liable to a greater
Punifhment: But to make amends for this, the greater
Strength of Faith and Love that is added, makes thofe
Things pleafant which by Nature are burdenfome. Bi't.
A a 3 Pray
[ 358 ]
Pray tell me, why, when the Holy Spirit defcended from
Heaven of old, in the Shape of fiery Tongues, and enrich'd
the Hearts of Believers with a more copious Gift of Faith
and Charity, why was the Burden of the Law taken away
from them, as from Perfons weak, and in danger under an
unequal Yoke ? Why did Teter^ by the Infpiration of the
Spirit, call it an mtolerable Burden ? Fijh. It was taken
fiway on one Part, left Judaifm^ as it had begun, fhould
overwhelm the Glory of the Gofpel ; and left the Gentiles,
by the Stumbling-block of the Law, fhould be alienated
from Chrift, among whom there were many weak Perfons,
who were in a double Danger : On the one hand, left they
fhould believe there was no Salvation to be had without the
Obfei-vation of the Law ; and on the other hand, left they
fhould rather chufe to remain in Faganifm^ than take upon
them the Yoke of the Mofaick Law. It was neceftary to
allure thefe weak Mindo, as it were, with a Bait of Liberty.
Secondly y That they might heal them who deny'd there was
any Hope of Salvatiori by the Profeffion of the Gofpel, with-
out the Obfervation of rb'^ Law, Circum.cifion, Sabbaths,
the Choice of Meats, and other things of that Kind, they
either wholly took away, or changed into fomething elfe.
And befides, whereas 'Feter denies that he was able to bear
the Burden of the Law, it is not to be underftood of him
is to tlie Perfon he then bare, when there was nothing
unbearable to him, but of the ftupid and weak Je-wsy who,
tho' tliey were cloy'd with it, fed upon the Husk, not having
any Relifh of the Spine. But. You argue indeed very
fmardy. But for all that, in my Opinion, even at this Day,
there is no lels Reafon why thofe carnal Obligations that are
arbitrary, and not obligatory, Hiould be taken away. VtjJy.
Why fo ? But. I lately faw the whole World defcribed in
a large Map j from thence I learn'd how fmall a Part of the
World it was, that truly and fincerely profefted thp Chriftian
Religion : One fmall Part of Europe to the Eaft, and ano-
ther towards the North j the third [i] inclining towards
the South, but reaching but a little Way; and the fourth
Part, which is Foland^ inclining towards the Eaft : AH the
feft of the World is either poffefs'd by Barbarian f, or fuch
as differ but very little from brute Beaftsj or Schifmaticks,
of Hereticks, or both. Fi/b. But did you not mind the Southern
Shore, and the Chriftian Iflands that lay fcatter'd about J
^t [2] ? But. I faw them, and learn'd that there were great "
,— ■ ■■■ - ■ ^— i— — ■■- ■■ ■■..— - ■ T ,.— — , , I -— I 1 —I
[,] Mufcovy, which is rather to the Eaftj b« ^ccaunts fchifmatical and
jjarbaruiis.
[1] Lini! Ailrinum cAmmta^
Spoils.
C Sip ]
spoils brought out of them, but no Chrlflianity carry'd into
them. When indeed, when there is fo plentiful a Harveft,
it feems mofl: advifeable for the Propagation of the Chriftian
Religion, to do as the Apoftle did, who took away the
Burden of the Mofaic Lzw, leii the Gentiles fhould fall back:
fo now to allure the weak, the Obligations to fome Ceremo-
nies fhould be removed j without which the World was
faved in the Beginning, and may now, if it hath Faith and
Gofpel Charity. Again, I both hear and fee many who
place Religion in Places, Garments, Meats, Fafts, Geftures
and Songs, and for the Hike of thefe things judge their
Neighbour contrary to the Precept of the Gofpel. From
whence it comes to pafs, that whereas Faith and Charity
conftitute the Chriftian Religion, they are both extinguiflied
by thofe Superftitions. For he is far from the Faith of the
Gofpel who depends upon thefe Ad:s j and he is far from
Chriftian Charity, who for the fake of Meat or Drink,
which a Perfon may lawfully ufe, exafperates his Brother,
for whofe Liberty Chrift died. What bitter Contentions do
wc fee among Chriftians ? What fpightfal Calumnies upon
account of a Garment differently tied, or of different
Colours than what is cuftomary, and about that Sort of
Food which. the Water produces, and that which the Land
produces ? And if this Evil had reach'd but a few, it might
have been flighted. But now we fee the Vv^hole World in a
Flame, on account of thefe deadly Contentions. Thefe
and fuch like things, were they removed, we fliould both
live in greater Concord, not minding Ceremonies, but pref-
fing after thofe things which Chrift hath taught us j and
the Nations of the World would the more readily embrace
Religion, were it accompanied with Liberty. F:Jb.B'dt there
is no Salvation out of the Pale of the Church. But. I confefs
it. Fi/b. Whofoever does not own the Authority of the
Pope, is out of the Pale of the Church. But. I don't deny
that neither. Fijb. But he that neglects his Tnjundtions does
not own him. But. But I hope a time will come, that the
Pope, who is Clement by Name, and moft of all fo by Na-
ture, will mitigate all thefe things, which hitherto fecm to
have alienated fome People from the 'Roman Church,* that
he may bring all Nations to the Communion of ir, and will
rather pu^foe thofe things that are for the Good of the Church,
than his own private Intereft. I hear daily Complaints of
yearly Offerings, Pardons, Difpeiifations, and other Exactions
and Church Grievances j but I believe he will fo moderate
all things, that in time to come it would be impudent to com-
plain. F'ljJ). I wiili all Monarchs would do the like, ani thca
A a 4. I v/Cild
[ 3<^o ]
I would not doubt but Chriftianity, which is now confined
to a narrow Compafs, would extend itfelf, when the barba- -
rous Nations did perceive that they were called not to
human Servitude, but to Gofpel Liberty ^ and that they were
not fought after to be made a Prey of, but to a Fellow-enjoy-
ment of Happinefs and Holinefs. If once they came to be
united with us, and found in us Manners truly ChrifHan,
they would of their own Accord offer us more than the utmoft
Violence can extort from them. But. I fliould foon hope
to fee that accomplifh'd, if that mifchievous [i] Ate that
has engaged the two moft mighty Monarchs in the World in
a bloody War, were feni to her Place (/. e. to the Dogs.)
Fijh. I admire that that is not done already, when nothing
can be imagined more humane than Francis, and I look upon
it, that Charles [a] has had Principles inftilled into him by
his Mafters, that by how much the more Fortune enlarges
the Bounds of his Empire, by fo much the more he encreafes
in Clemency and Bounty , befides that good Humour and
Lenity is peculiar to his Age. But. You won't find that
they will be wanting in any thing. Fijh. What then is ir,
that hinders the Accomplifhment of that which all the World
wifhes for? But. Why, the Lawyers have not yet come
to an Agreement about Bounds and Limits, and you know
that the Storm of a Comedy always ends in the Calm of a
Matrimony ; and the Tragedies of Princes commonly end
in the like Manner. But in Comedies Matches are quickly
made up, but among great Men, Matters move but flowlyj
and it is better to have a Wound long in healing, than
prefently to break out again in an Ulcer. Fijb. But do you
thinic Marriages to be firm Bonds of Amity ? But. I would
have them fo indeed ; but I fee fometimes the fharpeft Con-
tentions rife from them; and when once a War arifes between
near Kindred, it not only is more extenfive, but harder to be
made up. Fijb. I confefs it, and acknowledge it to be true.
But. But do you thinic it fit, that becaufe of the Contentions
and Delays of Lawyers, in relation to Contracts, the whole
World fhould be kept in Pain ? For as Matters are now,
there is no Safety any where, and the worft of Men take
Advantage of the Opportunity, while there is neither Peace
nor War. Fijh. It is not my Bufinels to determine concerning
the Counfels of Princes. But if I were C^far, I know what I
would do. But. Well, come on then, you fhall be Cafar
I
i] Ate theGoddefs of Difcord in Homer.
a] CarQh. G^'arl^s V. and Francis I.
and
r 3^1 ]
and the Pope too, if you pleafe. What is it you would
do ? tijh. I had rather be Emperor, and King of France.
But. Well, let it be fo, you mall be both of them then.
FiJ/j. I would immediately take upon me a Vow of Peace,
and pubUfh a Truce throughout my Dominions, disband my
p'orcesj and make it a capital Crime for any to touch fo
much as a Hen that was not their own. So having fettled
Affairs to my Conveniency, or rather that of the Publick,
I would treat concerning the Limits of my Dominion, or the
Conditions of a Match. But. Have you projedcd any firmer
Ties than thofe of Matrimony ? FiJ/j. I think I have. But.
Let's hear them. Fijb. Were I Emperor, I would without
Delay, thus treat with the King of France : " My Brother,
" ibme evil Spirit has fet this War on Foot betv^ecn you and
" me ; nor do we fight for our Lives, but our Dominions.
" You, as to your Part, have behaved yourfelf as a ftout and
" valiant Warrior. But Fortune has been on my Side, and
" of a King made you a Captive. What has been your Lot,
" may be mine, and your Mifhap admonifhes all of our
'^ human Condition. We have experienced that this Way
" of Contention has been detrimental to both of us ; let us
" engage one another after a different Manner. I give you
" your Life, and reftore you your Liberty, and inftead of an
'^ Enemy take you for my Friend. Let all paft Animofities
*' be forgotten, you are at free Liberty to return into your
*' own Do.minions, enjoy what is your own, be a good
" Neighbour, and for the future let this be the only Con-
'' tention, which fhall out-do the other in Offices of Fidelity
'' and Friendfhip j nor let us vie one with another, which
•^^ fliall govern the largefl: Dominions, but who fhall govern
" his own with the greateil Juflice and Goodnefs. In the
'' former Conflidt I have bore away the Prize of Fortune, but
" in this he that gets the better, fhall gain far more Glory,
'' As for me, the Fame of this Clemency will get me more
'' true Glory than if I had added all France to my Domi-
" nion. And in you a grateful Mind will be more to your
*' Praife than if you had drove me quite out of Italy. Don't
" you envy me the Praife that I am ambitious of, and I'll on
'' the other Hand carry myfelf toward you, that you fhaU
'' willingly owe an Obligation to fo good a Friend.
iBut. In truth, not only all France, but all the World might
be attach'd by this Method. For if this Ulcer fhould happen
to be skin'd over, rather than throughly heai'd, by unequal
Terms, I am afraid that upon the firfl Opportunity the Skiij
being broken, abundance of corrupt Matter would ifTue out,
and that with more dangeroi;s Confequences. F^/h. How
Great
Great and Glorious would this Ad of Humanity render
Charles all over the World ? What Nation would not rea-
dily fubmit to fo generous and kind a Prince ? But. You
have acted the Part of the Emperor very well. Now adt
the Pope too. F//^. It would be too long to go thro' every
thing. I will tell you in brief I would fo demean my felf
that the whole World fhould fee that there was a Prince of
the Church that afpired after nothing" but the Glory of
Chrifij and Salvation of Mankind. That would infallibly take
away all Invidioufnefs from the Name of Tope, and gain him
folid and lafting Glory. But by the way, from worfe to
better. We have digrefs'd from our firfl Propofition. But.
Well, I'll bring you to rights again, by and by. But do you
fay then, that the Pope's Laws are binding to the whole
Church } Fifb. I do fay fo. But. What, to the Punifhment
of Hell .? Fifb. They fay fo. But. And are the Bifliops
Laws obligatory in like manner ? Fifb. I think they are
every one in his own Diocefe. But. And thofe of Abbots
too ? Fifb. I am in doubt as to that. For they receive
their Adminiftration upon certain Conditions, nor have any
Power to burden their Inferiors with Conftitutions without
the Concurrence of the whole Order. But. But what if a
Bifhop receive his Fundion upon the fame Conditions?
Fifb. I doubt as to that. But. Can the Pope annul what a
Bifhop has conftituted ? Fifb. I believe he can. But. Can
no body annul what the Pope decrees ? Fijb. No, no body.
But. How comes it about that we hear of the refuming
of Popes Conftitutions, under this Tide, that they have
not been .rightly inftrudted ; and that the Conftitutions of
former Popes have been antiquated by later, as deviating
from Piety ? FiJb. Thofe were furreptitious and temporary
Things. For the Pope confidered as a Man, may be igno-
rant of Perfon and Fad. But that which proceeds from
the Authority of an univerfal Council, is a heavenly Oracle,
and is of equal Authority with the Gofpel it felf, or at leaft
very near it. But. Is it lawful to doubt concerning the
Gofpels ? FiJb. By no means ; no, nor the Councils neither
rightly aftembled by the holy Spirit, carried On, publifhed
and received. But. What if any one fliould doubt whether
there is any Council fo conftituted ? as I hear concerning
the Council at Bafl., whicli has been rejeded by fome^
nor do all approve of that of Confiance. I fpeak of thofe
that are accounted Orriiodox, not to mention the late
Lalcrati Council. Fijh. Let them that v/ill doubt at their
ov.'n Peril, I will not doubt for my Part. But. Had Peter
then the Authority of making new Lav/s? FiJh. He had.
But.
E 3^3 ]
But. And had Faul too, and the reft of the Apoftles ? Fifi'
Yes, they had every one in their own Churches committed
to them by Peter or Chrifl. But. And have the SuccelTors
of Feter a like Authority with Peter himfelf ? FijQ). Why
not ? But. And is there the fame Regard to be had to the
Pope of Rome's Letter, as to the Epiille of St. Peter himfelf,
and as much to the Conftitutions of Bifhops, as to the
Epiftles of Paul ? Fijb. Nay, I think and more too, if they
command and make it a Law by Authority. But. Is it
lawful to doubt, whether Peter and Paul wrote by the Infpi-
ration of the holy Spirit ? Fi/b. Nay, let him be accounted an
Heretick that doubts of that. But. And do you think the
fame of the Ordinances and Conftitutions of the Popes and
Bifhops ? Fi/b. I do as to the Popes, but I fliould make fome
queftion as to the Bifhops j but that it feems a Part of Piety
not to be fufpicious of any Perfbn unlefs there be very good
Grounds for it. But. But why will the holy Spirit fuffer a
Bilhop to err rather than a Pope.? FiJb. Becaufe that
Error is the moft dangerous that proceeds from the Head.
But. If the Conftitutions of Prelates are of fach Force, what
does the Lord mean in Deuteronomy, who ufes fo fevere a
Commination, That none add to or diminifh from the Law?
Fijh. He does not add to the*Law, that more largely explains
what lay couch'd in it, and who fuggefts thofe things that
have Relation to the Obfervation of the Law,- nor does he
diminifh, who preaches the Law according to the Capacity
of the Hearers, declaring fbme things, and -concealing
others, according to the Circumftances of the Time. But.
Were the Conftitutions of the Pharifees and Scribes obli-
gatory? FiJb. I don't think they were. But. Why fo ?
FiJJj. Becaufe, tho' they had Authority to teach, yet not to
make La* s. But. Which Power is the greateft, that of
making human Laws, or that of interpreting divine ? FiPj.
That of making human Laws. But. I am of another Mind :
For he that has the Right of interpreting his Opinion, has
the Force of a divine Law. Fip. I don't well take you in.
But. HI explain it to you. The divine Law commands us
to affift our Parents. The Pharifee interprets it thus : That
which is offer'd to the Church is given to the Father j
becaufe God is the Father of all. Does not the divine Law
then give Place to this Interpretation ? PiJJj. But that's a
falfe Interpretation. But. But when once they have receiv'd
an Authority of interpreting, how can I tell v/hich Interpre-
tation is true, and efpecially if they differ among them-
felves ? FiJb. If you cannot be fatisfied, as to the Senie of
the Commonalty, follow the Authority of the Prelates ^ that
is
[ 3^4 ]
is the fafeft. But. Is then the Authority of the Scrihgs and
Pharifees devolv'd upon Divines and Preachers? Fi/b. It is.
But. I hear none more ready to inculcate, Hear, I fay unto
you-, than thofe that never made Divinity much their Study.
FiJJj. You muft hear all candidly, but with Judgment, unlefs
they are quite mad. Then People ought to rife and hifs
th-m out of the Pulpit, to make them fenfible of their
Madnefs. But you ought to believe thofe that have arrived
to the Degree of a Doctor in Divinity. But. But among
them I find a great many that are much more ignorant and
foolifh, than thofe that are altogether illiterate j and I fee
much Controverfy among the Learned themfelves. FiJJj.
Single out the beft things, and leave thofe things that are
difficult to others; always receiving thofe things that the
Confent of the Rulers, and Majority, has approv'd. But.
I know that is the fafeft Way. But then there are falfe
Conftitutions as well as falfe Interpretations. Fiji}. Whether
there be or no, let others look to that. I believe there
may be. But. Had Amias and Caiaphas Authority to make
Laws ? FiJJj. Yes they had. But. Did thefe Mens Confti-
tutions in all things oblige to the Punifhment of Hell ?
FiJJj. I can't tell. But. Suppofe Annas had made an Order,
that no body coming from a Market fhould touch a Bit of
Meat before he had wafhed his Body : If any one eat Meat
unwafhed, did he incur the Pain gf Damnation ? Fijb. I
think not, unlefs the Contempt of the publick Authority
aggravated the Crime. But. Did all the Laws of God
oblige to the Punilliment of eternal Damnation ? FiJJj. I
believe not ; for God forbids all Sin, how venial foevcr, if
we may believe Divines But. But perhaps a venial Sin
might fend to Heil, unlefs God by his Mercy affifted our
Infirmity. Fifi. It is no Abfurdity to fay fo, but I dare not
affirm it. But. When the Ifraelites were in Captivity in
Bahylo?i, befides a great many other things which the Law
requires, many of them omitted Circumcifion j did all thefe
periffi? FifJj. God knows that. But. If a yew fhould
privately, for fear of being ftarved, eat Swine's Flefh,
would he be guilty of a Crime.!* Ftfb. In my Opinion, the
Neceffity would excufe the Fad ; inafmuch as David was
excufed by the Mouth of God himfelf, that he had eat holy
Bread, which is called Shew-bread, contrary to the Precept
of the Law ; and did not only eat it himfelf, but alfo fed his
profane Companions with it too. But. If any one lay under
that Neceffity that he muft either fteal or ftarve, which ought
hit to chufe, to fteal or be ftarv'd to Death.? FiJIj. Per-
haps, in that Cafe, Theft would not be Theft. But. How's
that?
[ 3^S 1
that ? What, is not an Egg an Egg ? Fifb. Efpecially, if he
took it with an Intention of making a Return, and pacifying
the Owner, as foon as he fhould be in a Capacity to do it.
Buf. What if a Man muft either lofe his own Life, or fwear
falfly againfb his Neighbour ? which muft he chufe ? Fifb.
Death. Buf. What if he could fave his Life by committing
Adultery ? Fi/h. He ought rather to chufe Death. But.
What if he could fave his Life by committing Fornication ?
Fifb. They fay he ought rather to die. Buf. Why does not
an Egg ceafe to be an Egg herej efpecially if there be no
Force offered or Injury done.^ Fifb. There is wrong done
to the Maiden's Body. But. What if by Perjury ? Fijb.
He ought to die. Buf. What fay you as to a fimple harm-
lefs Lye .? FiJb. They fay a Man muft rather die. But I am
of opinion, that upon an urgent Neceffity, or a great Advan-
tage, fuch a fort of a Lye rather is no Fault, or a very fmall
one j unlefs it be that having once opened the way, there is
danger of our growing into a Habit of lying injurioufly. Put
the Cafe that by aharmlefs Lye, a Man might fave the Bodies
and Souls of his whole Country j which would a pious Man
chufe ? Would he refufe to tell the Lye? Filb. What others
would do, I can't tell, but as for me, I would make no
fcruple of telling fifteen as notorious Lyes as ever Homer told
in his Life, and prefently wafh away my Guilt with Holy
Water. FiJb. I would do the fame. Buf. Well then, it is
not what God has commanded, nor what he has forbid, that
obliges to eternal Damnation. Fifb. It feems otherwife.
But. Then the Modus of the Obligation is not fo much from
the Author of the Law, as from the Matter of it. For fome
things give way to Neceffity, and fome do not. Fifb. It
feems fo. But. What if a Prieft fhould be in danger of his
Life, and fhould fave it by marrying ? Whether fhould he
chufe.? FiJb. Death. But. When a Divine Law can give
way to Neceffity, why does not this Human Law give way
to it ? Fijh. Ic is not the Law that hinders, but the Vow.
But. What if any one fhould make a Vow of going to feru^
falem, but could not do it without^being fu re to lofe his Life,
fhall he go, or fhall he die ? Fifb. Why he ought to die,
unlefs he can get his Vow difpenfed with by the Pope. But.
But why may one Vow be difpenfed with; and not another ?
FiJb. Becaufe one is a folemn Vow, and the other a private
one. But. What do you mean by a folemn one.? FifJj.
That which is ufual. Buf. Why then is not the other a fo-
lemn one which is a daily one ? FiJb. Yes, but then it is a
private one. But. Well then, if a Monk fhould profefs pri-
vately before an Abbot, would not this be a folemn one ?
. FiJh.
1 3<?n
Fijfj. You trifle. A private Vow is the eafler difcharged,'
becaufe it is difpenfed with the leaft Offence ^ he that makes
a private Vow, does it with this Intention} that if it be con-
venient he may alter his Mind. But. Then might they
vow with this Intention, that vow perpetual Chaftity?
Fifh. They ought fo to do. B:it. Then it would be perpe-
petualj and not perpetual. What if it were the Cafe of a Car-
thufian Monk, that he muft either eat Meat or die ? Whe-
. ther ou9;ht he to chufe ? Vijh. Phyficians tell us, that there
is no Flefh fo efficacious but Aurum fotahile^ and Jewels
would anfwer the end. But. Which is the more ufeful, to
fuccour a Perfon in danger of Life with Gold and Jewels, or
with the Price of them to fuccour a great many, whofe Lives
are in danger, and to let the fick Man have a Chicken ?
Viilj. I can't fay as to that. But. But the eating of Fifh or
Flefh is not of the number of thofe things that are called
Subftantials. FilJj. Let us leave the Carthufians to be their
own Judge. But. Let us then talk in the general. Sabbath-
keeping has been diligently, frequently, and largely incul-
cated in the Law of Mofes. Fijh. True. But. Whether
then ought I to relieve a City in danger, negleding the Sab-
bath, or not ? Fifi. Do you think me a _7£"u; then ? But.
I wifh you were, and a circumcifed one too. Fiflj. The
Lord himfelf hath folved that Difficulty ,* faying, The Sab-
bath was made for Man, and not Man for the Sabbath. But,
Well then, is that Law of force in all human Conftitutions ?
Tip. Yes, except any thing obftruct. But. What if a Law-
maker make a Law, not with this Defign, that it ffiould be
obligatory upon the pain of eternal Damnation, nor indeed
unto any Guilt, and to have no other force but an Exhortar
tion ? Fifh. Good Man, is it not in the Law-maker's Power
how far the Law fhall be binding ? He ufes his Authority in
making the Law, but as to what it fhall oblige to, and
what not, that is in the hand of God. But. Why then do
we hear our Pariffi Priefts out of the Pulpit crying, To morrow
you muft faff under pain of eternal Damnation, if it does not
appear to us how far a human Law is binding ? FiJh. They
do tbisj that they may in an efpiscial manner ftrikc Terror
into the Contumacious, for I prefume thofe V/ords do pro-
perly belong to them. But whether they are a Terror to
the Contumacious, I know not, they throw weak Perfons
into Scruples and Danger. FiJJj. It is a hard matter to fuit
both. But. The Power of the Law and Cuftom, are much
the fime. Fijb. Sometimes Cuftom is the more powerful.
But. They that introduce a Cuftom, whether they do it
with defign of bringing any one into a Snare or not, they
often-
oftentimes bring 'em into an Obligation, mlem 'volenti
Fijb. I am of your mind. Buf. Cuftom may lay a Burden,
upon a Man when it cannot take it off again. Fi/b. It
may fo. But. Well then, now I hope you are fenfible how
dangerous a thing it is to impofe new Laws upon Men without
any Neceffity, or a very great Utility. Fifb. I confefs it.'
But. When the Lord fays, Svjear not at all.^ does he render
every one that fwears obnoxious to the Pains of Hell ? Fijfj,.
I think not, I take it to be a Counfel, and not a Command."
But. But how can that be made clear to my Underftanding,
when he has fcarce forbid any thing with greater Stridnefis
and Severity, than that we S'u^ear not^ Fijh. You mufl;
learn of your Teachers. But. When Faul gives Advice,
does he oblige to the Pain of Damnation } FiJh. By no
means. But. Why fo? Fiflj. Becaufe he will not caft a
Stumbling-block before the Weak. But, So then it is in the
Breail of the Maker of the Law, to lay liable to Damnation
or not. And it is a facred thing to beware, left we lay a
Stumbling-block before the Weak by any Conftitutions.
Fiji}. It is. But. And if Faul made ufe of this Caution,
much more ought Priefts to ufe it, of whom it isj uncertain,
whether they have the Spirit or not. Fifj. I confefs fo.
But. But a Htde while ago you deny'd that it was at the
Lawgiver's Pleafure, how far the Law fhould oblige a Perfon,
Fiji]. But here it is a Counfel, and not a Law. But. Nothing
is eafier than to change the Word, Sivear not. Is it a Com-
mand? FiJJj. It is. But. Refift not Evil. Fijb. It is a
Counfel. But. But this laft carries in it the Face of a Com-
mand more than the former ^ at leaft is it in the Breafts of
Bifhops whether they will have their Conftitutions, Com-
mands, or Counfels ? Fip. It is. But. You deny'd that
ftrenuoufly but now. For he v/ho will not have his Confti-
tution render any one guilty of a Crime, he makes it Advice,
and not Command. FiJh. True : But it is not expedient the
Vulgar fhould know this, left they fhould prefently cry out,
that Vv'hat tliey han't a mind to obferve is Counfel. But. But
then what will you do as to thofe weak Confciences, that are
fo miferably perplexed by thy Silence? But come on, pray
tell me, can learned Men know by any certain Tokens, whe-
ther a Conftimtion has the force of a Counfel or a Command ?
FiJJ}. As I have heard, they can. But. Mayn't a body know
the Myftery ? FiJh. You may, if you won't blab it out.
But. Pfhaw, I'll be as mute as a Fifh. Ftp. When you
hear nothing but, We exhort, we ordai7i, vje cormnandy
it is a Counfel j when you hear. We command.^ nue require^
€fpecially if Threamings of Excommunication be added, it is a
Com-
[ 368 ]
Command. But. Suppofe I owe Money to mv Baker, and
can't pay him, and had rather run away than oe caft into
Prifon, am I guilty of a capital Offence? FiJJj. I think not,
unlefs a Will be wanting »s well, as Ability. But. Why am I
excommunicated then ? Fijb: That Thunderbolt affrights
the Wicked, but does not hurt the Innocent^ For you know
amongft the antient Romans^ there were certain dreadful
threatning Laws, made for this very purpofe j as that which
is fetch'd from the twelve Tables, concerning the cutting the
Body of the Debtor afunder, of which there is no Exam-
ple extant, becaufe it was not made for Ufe but Terror.
And now as Lightning has no EfFe6t upon Wax or Flax, but
upon Brafs, fo fuch Excommunications don't operate upon
Perfons in Mifery, but upen the Contumacious. But. To
fpeak ingcnuoufly, to make ufe of Chrifi's Thunderbolt on
fuch frivolous Occalions asthefeare, feems in a manner to be*
as the Antients faid, i7i lente unguentum. But. Has a Mat-
ter of a Houfe the fame Power in his own Houfe, as a Bifhop
has in his Diocefe.?* i'ljh. It is my opinion he has propor-
tionably. But. And do his Prefcriptions equally oblige?
Yifi. Why not ? But. I command that no body eat Onions :
How is he that does not obey, a Sinner before God ? Vijlj.
Let him fee to thac. But. Then for the future, I'll fay I ad-
monifh you, not I command you. F//Z'. That will be wifely
done. But. But fuppofe I fee my Neighbour in danger,
and therefore I take him afide and Admonifli him privately
to withdrav/ himfelf from the Society of Drunkards and
Gamefters, but he flighting my Admonition, lives more pro-
fligately than before j does my Admonition lay him under an
Obligation ? Vijh. In my opinion it does. But. Then nei-
ther by^ Counfel nor Exhortation v/e avoid the Snare. ¥tjh.
Nay, it is not Admonition, but the Argument of Admoni-*
tion that brings into the Snare. For if I admonifli my Bro-
ther to make ufe of Slippers, and he does not do it, he is not
guilty of a Crime. But. I will not put the Queftion at this
time, how far the Prefcriptions of Phyficians are obligatory.
Does a Vow lay liable to the Pain of eternal Damnation ?
mfb. Yes. But. What, all kind of Vows? Vilh. Ay, all
univerfally, if they be pofTible, lawful and voluntary. But.
What do you mean by voluntary ? Ytjl). That which is ex-
torted by no"Nece{rity. But. What is NecefTity ? Fijh. Fear
falling upon a Man of Conflancy. But. What, upon a Stokk.,
fuch a one as Horace fays, if the World fall to Pieces about
his Ears, would not be afraid ? Viflj. Shew me fuch a Stoicky
and then I'll give you an Anfwer. But. But, without jefting,
can the Fear of Fami^ne or Infamy fail upon a Man of Con-
flancy i
[ ^^9 ]
flrancy ? Ftp- Why not ? But. Suppofe a Daughter tJiat 10
not at her own Difpofal, ftiould marry privately, without
the Confent of her Parents, who would give their Confent
if they knew it^ will the Vow be lawful? FiJJj. It will.
But. I can't tell whether it be or no ; but this I am fure of,
if there be any fuch, this is one of the Number of thofe
which, altho' they be true, yet left they be a Scandal to the
weak, are to be kept fecret. Biit. Again, fuppofe a Virgini
who, by her Parents Confent, has engaged herfelf in Mar-
riage to her Lover, fliould enter herielf in the Cloifter of
St. Clare j will this Vow be allowable and lawful ? Filh.
Yes!) if it be a folemn one. But. Can that be folemn that
is done in a Field, and a dark Monaftery } Ftp. It is ac-^
counted fo. But. Suppofe the fame Perfon at home, a few
WitnelTes being prefent, fhould make a Vow of perpetual
Virginity, will it not be a lawful Vow ? Ftp. No. But.
Why fo .? Fi(b. Becaufe a more holy Vow is in the Way.
But. If the fame Maid fell a Field, will the Contrad be
good ? • F//Z'. I think not. But. And will it be valid if fhe
give herfelf into the Power of another ? Fip. If fhe devote
herfelf to God. But. And does not a private Vow devote
a Perfon to God ? And does not he that receives the holy
Sacrament of Matrimony, devote himfelf to God ? And cdn
they whom God has joined together, devote themfelves
to the Devil ? when only of married Perfons God has faid.
Whom God has joijied-) let no Man pit afunder. And be-
lides this, when a young Man not come of Age, and a
fimple Maid, by the Threats of Parents, Severity of Tutors,
the wicked Inftigation of Monks, fair Promifes, and Terri-
fyings, is thruft into a Nunnery ; is the Vow a free Vow ?
Fiflj. Yes, if they are at Years of Difcretion. But. A Virgin
of that Age is emphatically dolt capax^ being eafy to be
impofcd upon. What if I fliould piirpofe in my Mind to
drink no Wine on a Friday ? v/ould my Purpofe bind me as
flrongly as a Vow ? Fip. I don't think it would. But,
What Difference is there then between a determinate Pur-"
pofe, and a Vow conceiv'd in the Mind ? F(fb. The Mind
of binding. But. You deny'd but juft now, that the Mind
fignified any thing in this Matter. Do I purpofe if I am able,
, and vow whether I am able or not ? Fip. You have it.
But. Have it ? I have Clouds painted upon the Wall, that
is juft nothing at all. What then, is the Ratio of the Matter*
to be difregarded m a Purpofe ? Fipj. I think fo. But,
And muft we take care of that on account of the Law, and
ithis on account of the Vow. ^ Fip. Yes. B/<'^. Suppofe thd'
Pope fliould make a Law? that no body fhould many any
' B b ong
I
C 370 ]
One within the feventh Degree of Affinity, would he be
fatlty of a Sin that fhould marry a Coufin in the fixth
)egree ? Filb. In my Opinion he would. But. What if a
Bifhop fhould put forth an Edid, that no body fhould have
to do with his Wife but on ^ Monday ^ Thurfday^ and SatuV'
day ? would he be guilty of a Sin that fhould have to db
with her upon other Days ? Ttjlj. I think he would. But.
What if he fliould enjoin, that no body fhould eat bulbous
Roots ? ¥tj1}. What does that fignify to Piety ? But. Becaufe
bulbous Roots are Provocatives, but what I fay of Bulbs,
I fay even of the Herb Rocket ? Fi/^. I can't well tell. But.
Why, can't you tell where lies the Force of Obligation in
human Laws } Fijb. In the Words of St. Faul., Be obedient
So thofe that are fet over you. But. Upon this Foot the
Conllitution of a Bifhop and Magiftrate binds all Perfons.
FiJJj. Yes, if it be juft, and lawfully made. But. But who
fhall be judge of that ? Fijh. He that made it : For he that
makes the Law ought to interpret it. But. What then,
muft we be obedient to all Conftitutions, without Diftin-
6tion "? FiJJj. I think we fliould. But. What if a Fool or a
wicked Perfon be fet over us, and he make a foolifh and
wicked Law ? muft we abide by his Judgment > and muft
the Peqple obey, as having no Right to judge ? FiJb. What
fio;nifies it to fuppofe what is not? But.\\e that fuccours his
lather, and would not fuccour him, unlefs the Law oblig'd
him to it, does he fulfil the Law or not? Fijh. No, I
think he does not. But. Why not? FiJb. In the firfi
Place, becaule he does not fulfil the Will of the Law-giver :
Secondly, he adds Hypocrify to his wicked Will. But. If
he fafts, that would not faft unlefs the Church requir'd him,
does he fatisfy the Law ? FiJb. You change both the Author
of the Law, and the Matter of it. But. Well then, com-
pare a JeiUj if he fafting upon Days appointed, would not
raft unlefs the Law requir'd him, with Chrifi, who keeping
a Faft appointed by Men, would not keep it if there were
no Law fof it^ or if you had rather, a Je'Vj abftaining
from Swine's Flefh, and a Chriftian abftaining from Flefli
and Milk-Meats on Friday. FiJb. I believe there ought
Xo be fome Grains of Allowance made to Infirmity, tho'
the Law be againft it i but not fo to hira that on purpofe
«6ts and murmurs againft a Law. But. But you do allow,
that the divine Laws do not always oblige to eternal
Damnation. FiJb. Why fhould I not .? But. But do you
not dare to own, that there is any human Law which
does not bind to the fame Penalty, but leave a Man in fuf-
penfe? Then you feem to attribute fomething more to the
Laws
[ 3^1 ]
taws of Men than to the Laws of God. Lyin^ arid Bacfi"-
biting are evil in their own Nature, and forbidden by God
himfelf i and yet you acknowledge that fome kind of Lyes
and Backbitings do not bind a Perfon to the Punifliment of
Hell : And yet you don't dare to exempt a Perfon from the
fame Punifhment, that upon any Condition whatfoever eats
Flelh on a Friday. Fip. It is none of my Bufinefs to acquit
^ or condemn any one. But. If divine and human Laws
bind equally ahke, what Difference is there between one
and the other ? FiJJj. This Difference, that he that tranf-
grefles a human Law, fins immediately againft Man, (if yoa
will allow me to ufe School-terms) but mediately againfl
God ,• he that tranfgrefles a Divine Law, e contra. But.
Where's the Difference, in mingling Vinegar and Worm-
wood, which is put in firff, if I muff drink 'em both? Or,
what matter is it, whether a Stone that has given me a
Wound, rebounds from me to a Friend directly or fide-ways ?
•^F//^. I have learn'd that. But. And if die Modus of a
Law's binding, in Laws of both Kinds, is to be taken from
the Matter and Circumftances, what Difference is therd
between the Authority of God, and that of Man ? FijJj:
Indeed a very wicked Queffion ! But. There are, for all that,
a great many that don't think there is much Difference.
God gave a Law by Mofesy and^ it is not lawful to viokte
it : And he alfo gives Laws by a Tope, or a Council; What
Difference is there betv/een the one and the other } Mojes's
Law was given by God, and our Laws were given by Men.
And it fhould feem that thofe Laws which God gave by
one Mofes, fhould be of lefs Moment than thofe which the
Holy Spirit gives by a full Council of Biffiops and learnect
Men. Fijb. It is unlawful to doubt concerning the Spirit of
Mofes. But. Paul comes in the Place of a Biffiop i what
Difference is there then betwixt the Precepts of Paul and
of any other Bifhop .? Fi/j. Becaufe, without Controverfy, .
Paul wrote by the Infpiration of the Spirit. But. How far
extends this Authority of Writers ? FiJb. I think no farther
than the Apoftles themfelves, unlefs that the Authority of
Councils ought to be look'd upon inviolable. But. VVhy
may we not doubt of Paul's Spirit ? Fijh. Becaufe the Con-
fent of the Church is againft it. But. May we doubt con-
cerning that of Biffiops ? FiJh. We ought not raflily to be
fufpicious of thofe, unlefe the Matter manifeftly favours of
Gain or Impiety. But. But what think you of the Coun-
cils ? Fifi. We ought not to doubt of them, if they are.
rightly conftkuted and managed by the Holy Spirit. But.
h there then any Council that is not fo ? Fij7j. It is poP.ible
^ B b 2 there
diere may be fuch, othervvife Divines would never have
'made this Exception. But. Then it feems that it is lawful
to doubt concerning Councils themfelves. Fifb. I don't think
we may, if they be received and approved by the Judg-
ment andConfent of Chriftian Nations. But. But fince we
have exceeded the Bound that God has fet, and within
which he would have the facred and inviolable Authority of
the Scripture c^rcumfcribed, it feems to me, that there is
fome other Difference between Laws divine and human.
Fij/j, V/hat is that? But. Divine Laws are immutable,
unlels fuch as are of that Kind, that they feem to be given
only for a time, for the fake of Signification and Coercion,
which the Prophets foretold fliould end, as to the carnal
Senfe of them, and the Apoftles have taught us are to be
omitted. And then again, as to human Lawsj there are
fonietimes unjuR-, fooiifh, and hurtful Laws made, and
therefore either abrogated by the Authority of Superiors,
or by the univerfd Neglect of the People : But there is
nothlno; fuch in the divine Laws. Ag-ain, a human Law
o
ceafes of itfelf, when .the Cauies for which it was made
ceafe j as for inOiance, fuppofe a Conftitution fhould enjoin '
all Perfons yearly to contribute fomething towards building
a Church, the Requirement of the Law ceafes when the
Church is built. Add to this, that a human Law is no Law,
unlefs it be approved by the Confent of thofe who are to ufe
if. A divine Law can't be difpenfed with nor abrogated j
altho' indeed, Mofes being about to make a Law, required
the Confent of the People ^ but this was not done becaufe it
was neceflfary, but that he might render them the more
criminal in not keeping it. For, indeed, it is an impudent
thing to break a Law that you gave your Approbation to the
making of. And in the lafl: place, inafmuch as human Laws
commonly concern corporal Matters, and are School-mafters
to Piety, they feem to ceafe, when a Perfon has arrived to that
Strength in Grace, that he doe;^ not ftand in need of any
fuch Reftraints, but only Ihould endeavour to avoid giving
an Offence to weak Perfons, who are confcientioufly fcrupu-
lous. As for initance, fuppofe a Father enjoins a Daughter
that is under Age, not to drink Wine, that flie may with the
^greater Safety preferve her Virginity till (he is married;
when flie comes of Age, and is delivered up to a Husband,
flie is not bound to her Father's Lijundion. There are
many Laws that are like Medicaments, that are alter'd and
aive Place according to the Circumllances, and that with
the Aporobation of the Phyficians themfelves, who, if they
(houid'at all times make ufc of the Remedies the Antients
prefcribed,
C 373 ]
prefcribed, would kill more than they cure. TiJJj. You, in-
deed, heap a great many thing;s together, fcme of which I
like, and others I do not, and fome I don t underftand. Bnt.
If a Bifliop's Law manifeftly favours of Gain, that is, if he
makes an Order, that every Parifli-Prieft every Year pur-
chafe, at a Guinea apiece^ a Right of Abfolution in thofe
Cafes that are called Epifcopals, that he might extort the
more Money from thofe in his Jurifdidion •■, do you think it
ought to be obey'd ? FiJJj. Yes, I think it ought ; but at
the fame time we ought to exclaim againft this unjuft Law,
but always avoiding Sedition. But how comes it about that
you turn Catechifer at this Rate, Butcher ? Every one Ihould
keep to his own Trade. But. We are often perplexed with
thefe Queftionsat Table,andfometimesthe Conteft proceeds
to Blows and Bloodlhed. Fijh. Well, let them fight that
love fighting; I think we ought with Reverence to re-
ceive the Laws of our Superiors, and religioufly obferve
them, as coming f om God ; nor is it either fafe or re-
ligious either to conceive in Mind, or fow among others any
finifter Sufpicion concerning them. And if there be any
Tyranny in them, that does not compel us to Impiety, it
is better to bear it, than feditioufly to reiift it. But. I
confefs this is a very good v/ay to maintain the Autho-
rity of Perfons in Power i I am pretty much of your
mind, and as for them, I do not envy them. But I
fhould be glad to hear any thing wherein the Liberty
and Advantage of the People is aimed at. Fijb. God v/ill
not be wanting to his People. But where all this while is
,that Liberty of the Spirit that the Apoftles promife by the
Gofpel, and which Faul fo often inculcates, faying, The
Kingdom of God co/iffls not in Meat mid Drink j and that
ive are not Children under a School-?}infler ; and that ive do
no longer ferve the 'Elcme-ats of this World \ and abundance
of other Expreffions : if Chriftians are tied to the Obfervance
of ib many more Ceremonies than the Jen:js were j and if
the Laws of Man bind more clofely than a great many Com-
mands of God ? 'Eijfj. Well, Butcher, Fllteil you, the Liber-
ty of ChrifLians does not confift, in its being iav/ful for 'em to
do what they will, being fet free from human Ordinances,
but in that they do thofe things that are enjoined them with
a Fervour of Spirit and Readinefs of Mind, willingly and chear-
fully, and fo are Sons rather than Servants. But. Very cle-
verly anfwer'd indeed! But there v/ere Sons under the
Mofaic Law, and there are now Servants under the Gofpel ;
and I am afraid the greateft Part of Mankind are fo, if they
are Servants whodo their Duty by Compuifion. What Diffe-
B b 3 rencc
[ 374 1
rence is there then between the new Difpenfation and the
old ? Fijh. A great deal in my Opinion : Becaufe the old
taught under a Veil, and the new is laid open to View j that
which the old foretold by Parables and Riddles, the new
explains clearly , what that promifed darkly, this exhibits for
the moft part manifeftly : that was given to one Nation
fingly, this equally teaches all the Way of Salvation j that
imparted that notable and fpiritual Grace to a few Prophets
and famous Men, but this largely flieds abroad every kind
of Gifts, as Tongues, healing Difeafes, Prophecies and Mira-
cles, into Perfons of all Ages, Sexes, and Nations whatfo-
€ver. But. Where are thofe Gifts now? Fiji}. They are
ceafed, but not lofl, either becaufe there is no need of thetn,
now the Doctrine of Chrift is fpread abroad, or elfe becaufe
mafiy are only Chriflians in Name, and we want Faith,
which is the Worker of Miracles. But. If Miracles are
necelTary on account of Unbelievers, I'm fure the World is
full of them now. Fiji:). This is an Unbelief fimply erring,
fach as that of the Jeivs murmuring againft Teterj becaufe
he had, received Cornehush Family into the Grace of the
Gofpel; and Rich as v/as that of the Gentiles, who thought
the Religion they had received from their Anceftors was
fuf&cient to Salvation; and the Apoftles Doctrine to be a
ftrange Superftition : Thefe were converted by feeing Mira-
cles. But now thofe that believe not the Gofpel when it fhines
fo glorioufly thro' the whole World, do not err fimply, but
being blinded by their evil AfFedions, will not underftand that
they may do what is good^ fjch as thefe no Miracles would
reduce to a better Mind. And now is the time of healing,
but the time of punifhing v/ill come. But. Indeed you have
faid many things that have a Probability in them : however,
I am refolved not to depend upon the Judgment of a Salt-
Fifhmonger; but I will go to fome Divine, eminent for
Learning, and what he fays concerning all thefe things, I'D
believe. Fi,'??. Who ? Pharetrius ? But. He dotes before he
i^ old, and is fit to preach to none but doting old Women.
Fijh. Weil then, what? Bliteusl But. Do you think I'll give
any Credit to a prating Sophifter ? Fi[h. Well then, Ainphi-
cholus ? But. rU never trufb him to anfwer Queftions, that
never anfwer'd my Demands for the Meat I trufted him. Can
he refolve hard Queitiony, that was always infoivent as to his
Debts ? Fijb. Who then ? L,emantuis ? Bnt. I flian t chufe
a blind Man to fhew me the Way. Fi/7^. Who then? But.
If you have a mind to know, it is Cephalusj a Man very
well verfed in three Languages, and accomplifh'd with all
good Literature, familiarly acquainted with the facred Scrip-
tures,
[ ^is ]
tures, and antient Fathers. Fi/&. I'll advife you better:
Go to the Elyfian Shades, and there you'll find [i] Rabitt
Drum, he'll cut all your knotty Queftions in two with a
Pair of Sheers. But. Do you go before and clear the Way.
FiJIj. But, fetting afide jelling, is that true you told me, of
a Difpenfation for Flefli-eating ? But. No, I did but joke
with you to teaze you. And if the Pope had ever fo much
mind to do it, you Fiflimongers would raife Mobs about it.
And befides, the World is full of a Sort of Pharifees, who
have no other way of appearing religious but by fuch Super-
ftitions, who would neither be deprived of their oftentatious
San(5tity, nor fuffer their SuccefiTors to have more Liberty
than they had themfelves. Nor, indeed, Vv'ould it be for
the Intereft of Butchers, to have a free Toleration to eat
every thing ; for then our Trade would be very uncertain,
for now our Profit is more certain, and we run lefs Hazards,
as well as have lefs Trouble. Fip). What you fay is very
true, and we fhould be in the fame Condition, But. I am
glad here is fomething found out at laft, that a Fifhmonger
and Butcher can agree in. But to begin to talk ferioufly, as
perhaps it would be convenient for Chriftians not to be ty'd
up to fo many Ceremonies, efpecially to fuch as make but
very little to true Religion, not to fay that make againft it i
fo I have no mind to vindicate thofe Perfons, who rejedt and
let light by all human Ordinances ; nay, fuch as often do
many things, becaufe they are forbid to do them. Yet I
can't but admire at the abfurd Notions of Mankind in many
things. Fi/b* Nor can I help wondring at .them neither.
But. We are for confounding Heaven and Eartii together,
if we do but fufpedt aay Danger of leflfening the Authority
of Priefts, as to their Impofitions ; and are all afleep when
we are under imminent Danger of attributing fo much to
the Authority of Man, that the Authority of God fufFers
by it. So we avoid one Evil, and fall into another far more
pernicious. That there is Honour due to Bifhops no body
denies, efpecially if they adl agreeably to what they talk.
But it is a wicked thing to transfer the Honour due to God
alone, upon Men j and in doing too much Honour to Men, to
do too litde to God. God is to be honoured and reverenced
in our Neighbour i but, however, we ought to take care at
[i] Tenedid Bifemi. A certain King ©f the Ifland Tenedos ufed to fit
to judge the Caufes of his Subjefts, armed with anJi.x,aad immediately
Ebppt ofH the Bead of tboi^ tkat were found guilty.
5 b 4 the
C 37<5 ]
the fame time that God, by this means, be not robbed of
his Honour Fijh. V/e fee a grea,t many Men lay lb much
Strefs upon corporal Ceremonies, that relying upon them they
negle<5t Matters of real Religion, arrogating that to their
own Merits, which ought to be attributed to the divine
Bounty,* and there taking up their Station, where, they fhould
begin to afcend to greater Perfeftion, and reviling their
Neighbour for thofe things that in themfelves are neither
good nor bad. But. And when in the fame Matter there
are two things, one better than the other, we commonly,
chufe the worft of them. The Body, and thofe things that
belong to the Body, are every where made more account of
than thofe of the Mind. And it is accounted a great Crime
to kill a Man, and indeed it is fo j but to corrupt Mens Minds
with poifonous Dodrine and pernrcious Principles, is made a
Jeft on. If a Priefi: lets his Hair grow, or wears a Lay Habit,
he is thrown into PrifOn and feverely punifhedj but if he
fits tippling in a Bawdy-houfe with Whores, games or de-
bauches other Mens Wives, and never takes a Bible in his
Hand, he is ftill a Pillar of the Church. Not that I excufe
the wearing a Lay Habit, but I accufe the Abfurdity of
Mens Notions. FifJj. Nay, if he fhall negleft to fay his
Prayers at flated Hours, he mull be excommunicated j but
if he be an Ufarer, or guilty of Simony, he goes fcot-free.
But. If any body fees a Carthujian in a Drefs not of the
Order, or eating FleHi, how does he curfe him, tremble at
the Sight, and fall into a Fright, left the Earth fhould open
and fwallow up him for wearing, and himfelf for beholding
it ? But let the fame Perfon fee him drunk as a Lord, reviling
his Neighbour with notorious Lyes, impoling upon his poor
Neighbour with manifeft Frauds, he is not at all fliock'd at
that. Fijb. So if any one fees a Fra7icifcan with a Girdle
without Knots, or an Augnflin girt with a Woollen one
inftead of a Leather [i] one, or a Carmelite without one,
or a ilhodian [2] with one,' or a Francifcan with whole
Shoes on his Feet, or a Cruciferian with Half-fhoes onj
Vvill he not fet the whole Town into an Uproar ? But.
There were lately in our Neighbourhood two Women, whom
one would take for Perfons of Prudence, and the one mii^
[i] Mguftinewfem. An Order of Monks of which there are divers
Branches, which they pretend to have been founded by St. sAuftin j but
were founded by Pope y^/fjcawrffr VI. Anno ie,zf,.
[2] Rhodienfem. Another Qrdq: of Monks, fo call'd, becaiife they had
Seats in the Ifie oi Rhodts.
carried*
[ 377 ]
carried, and the other fell into a Fit on feeing a Canons who
was a Prefident of the Nuns in a Cloifter not far diiiantj
appear out of Doors, without a SurpUce under his Gown :
cut the fame Women have frequently feen thefe fort of
Cattle junketting, (inging and dancing, to fay no more; and
their Stomachs never fo much as heav'd at it, 'Bijh. Per-
haps fome Allowance ought to be made for the Sex. But I
fuppofe you know Folythrefws : He v.'as dangeroufly ill, his
Diftemper was a Confumption : The Phyficians for a long
time had perfuaded him to eat Eggs and Milk-meats, but
to no Purpofe : The Bifhop exhorted him to do the like ;
but he being a Man of Learning, and a Batchelor in Divi-
nity, feem'd to refolve rather to die, than to take the Advice
of either of thefe Phyficians. At laft the Dodlors, and his
Friends together, contriv'd to put the Cheat upon him^
making him a Potion of Eggs and Goats Milk, telling him
it was Juice of Almonds. This he took very freely, and for
feveral Days together mended upon it, till a certain Maid
told him the Trick, upon which he fell to vomiting of it up
again. But the very fame Man that was fo fuperliitious in
relation to Milk> had fo little Religion in him, that he
forfwore a Sum of Money that he owed me, having gotten
before an Oppormnity to tear the Note of his Hand that
he had given me; he forfwore it, and I was obliged to fit
down with the Lofs. But he took not the Oath with fo
much Difficulty, but that he feem'd to wiih he had fuch
Complaints made againft him every Day. What can be
more perverfe than fuch a Spirit ? He finned againft the Mind
of the Church, in not obeying the Prieft and the Doctors :
But he whofe Stomach was fo weak in relation to Milk, had
a Confcience ftrong enough as to Perjury. But. This Story
brings to my Mind what I heard from a Dominican in a full
Auditory, who upon Eafter-Eve was fetting out the Death
of Chrift, that he might temper the Melancholinefs of his
Subjed, by the Pleafantnefs of the Story. A certain young
Man had got a Nun With-Child, and her great Belly difco-
ver'd her Fault ; A Jury of Nuns were impannell'd, and tlic
Lady Abbefs fat Judge of the Court. Evidence was given
againft her ; the Fad was too plain to admit of a Denial j
fhe was obliged to plead theUnavoidablenels of the Crime,
and defended the Fact upon that Confideration ; alfo tranP-
ferring the Blame to another, having Recourfe to the Status
^aUtatisj or if you will rather have it fo, the Status TranJIa-
tionis. I was overcome, fays he, by one that was too ftrong
for me. Says the Abbefs, then you fhould have cry'd out.
So I would, fays the Prifoner;, had it not been a Crime
to
[378]
to make a Noife in the [i] Dormitory. Whether this be a
Fable or not, it muft be confeft, there are a great many
foolifher things than this done. But now I will tell you what
I have feen with my own Eyes. The Man's Name, and
Place where he lives, fliall be concealed. There was a Coufin
of mine, a Prior that was next in Degree to the Abbot of
the BenediBine Order, but of that fort that don't eat Flefh,
unlefs it were out of the Place they call the great Refedory^
he was accounted a learned Man, and he was defirous to
be lb accounted j about fifty Years of Age : it was his daily
Pradice to drink freely, and live merrily ; and once every
twelve Days to go to the Hot-houfes, to fweat out the
Difeafes of his Reins. Fiflj. Had he wherewithal to live at
that Rate? But. About fix hundred Florins a Year. Fijb.
Such a Poverty I my felf would wifh for. But. In fhort,
with drinking and whoring he had brought himfelf into a
Confumption. The Dodtors had given him over j the Abbot
order'd him to eat Flefh, adding that terrible Sentence, Upon
Pain of Difobedience ; but he, tho' at the Point of Death,
could fcarce be brought to taile Flefb,, tho' for many Years
he had had no Avrefion to Flefh* FijJj. A Prior and an
Abbot well match'd ! I guefs who they are, for I remem-
ber I have heard the fame Story from their own Mouths.
But. Guefs. Ftp. Is not the Abbot a lufty fat Man, that
has a ftammering in his Speech j and the Prior a little Man,
but ftrait-bodied and long-vifag'd .^ But. You have guefs'd
right. Fijh. Well, now FU make you amends j FU tell you
what I faw with my own Eyes but t'other Day; and what I
was not only prefent at, but was in a manner the chief
Aftor. There were two Nuns that went to pay a Vifit to fome
of their Kinsfolks; and v/hen they came to the Place,
their Man-fervant had left behind him their Prayer-book,
which was according to the Cuftom of the Order and Place
where they liv'd. Good God I What a vexatious thing that
was ! They did not dare to go to Supper before they had
faid their Vefpersy nor could they read in any Book but
their own j and at the fame time all the Company was m
great haftc to go to Supper: the Servant runs back, and
fate at Night brings the Book ; and by that time they had
faid their Prayers, and got to Supper, 'twas ten o'Clock at
Night. But. That is not much to be found fault with hitherto.
. [i] ^ormhorio. A Place in a Monafteiy divided into Cells, where the
Monks and Nuns lay diftinil by themfelves, in vrbich it W as forbidden by
their Statutes tQ talK oni wiclj another.
C 37P ]
l^j. You have heard but one Part of the Story yet. At
Supper the Nuns began to grow merry with \A/ine ; they
laugh'd, and jok'd, and kifs'd, and not over-modeftly neither,
till you could hardly hear what was faid for the Noife
they made j but no body ufed more Freedom than thofe two
Virgins that would not go to Supper before they had faid their
Prayers. After Supper there was dancing, finging of lafci-
vious Songs, and fuch Doings I am alham'd to fpeak of; info-
much that I am much afraid that Night hardly paf-'d very
honefblyi if it did, the wanton Plays, Nods and Kifles
deceived gie. But. I don't blame the Nuns for this, fo
much as the Priefts that look after them ; but, come on, I'll
give you Story for Story, or rather a Hiftory that I my felf
was an Eye-witnefs of A little while fince there were Ibme
Perfons fent to Prifon for baking Bread on a Sunday, tho' at
the fame time they wanted it. Indeed, I do not blame the
Deed, but I do the Punifhment. A little after, being P^/zv-
Sunday, I had Otcafion to go to the next Street, and being
there about four o'Clock in the Afternoon, I faw a Sight, I
can't well tell whether I fhall call it ridiculous or wretched : I
fcarce believe any Bacchanals ever had fo much Lcwdnefs in
them j fome v/ere fo drunk they reel'd to and fro, like a Ship
tofs'd by the Waves, being without a Rudder ; others v/ere
fupporting one fo drunk he could not go, and hardly able to
ftand themfelves ; others fell down, and could fcarce get up
again; fome were crowned with Leaves of Oak. Fip.
Vine-Leaves and Wan<^s would have befitted them better j
the Senior of them, acting the Part of [i] Silenus, was car-
ried like a Pack upon Mens Shoulders, after the Manner
they carry a dead Corps, with his Feet foremoft, but with
his Face downwards, left he fhould be choak'd with his own
Vomit, vomiting plentifully down the Heels of thofe that
carry'd hindmoft ; and as to the Bearers, there was not a
fober Manamongft'em; they went along laughing, but after
fuch a manner, that you might perceive they had loft their
Senfes. In fhort, they were all mad ; and in this Pickle
they made a Cavalcade into the City in the Day-time. TtjJj.
How came they to be all fo mad ? Bttt. You muft know,
in the next Town, there was Wine fold fomething cheaper
than in the City, fo a Parcel of boon Companions went thither,
that they might attain the greater Degree of Madnefs
for the lefler Suni of Money ; but tho', indeed, they did
[i] Silenum. A drunken God, that the Poet« feign to te the Compa-
sUon ani Preceptor of Bacchus.
fpend
[ 38o ]
fpend the lefs Money, they got the more Madnefs. If thefe
Men had but tafted an Egg, they would have been haul'd to
Prifon as if they had conrimitted Paricide, v/hen, befides
their negle61:ing divine Service, and Evening Prayers upon
fo facred a Day, fo much Intemperance was not only com-
mitted with Impunity, but no body feem'd to be fo much as
difpleas'd at it. Fijh. But that you may net wonder fo much
at that, in the midft of the Cities, and in Alehoufes next to
the Churches, upon the moft folemn Holidays, there was
drinking, finging, dancing, fighting; v/ith fuch a Noife and
Tumultv thaf divine Service could not be perform'd, nor one
Word heard that the Parfon laid. But if the fame Men had
fet a Stitch in a Shoe^ or eat Pork on a Friday:, they would
have been feverely handled. Tho'the Lord's Day was infti-
tuted chiefly for this End, that they might be at leifure to
attend to the Dodrine of the Gofpel ; and therefore it was
forbid to mend Shoes, that they might have leifure to trim
their Souls. But is not this a ftrange perverting of Judg-
ment.? But. A prodigious one. Fi'Ij. Whereas there are
two things in the ordering a Fafb, the one Abftinence from
Meat, and the other the Choice of ir; there is fcarce any
body ignorant, that the firft is either a divine Command,
Or very near it ; but the other not only human, but alfo in a
manner oppofite^to the Apoitles real Dodrinej however we
€xcufe it, neverthelefs by a prepoiterous Judgment in com-
mon, it is no Crime to eat a Supper, but to tafte a Bit of
Meat that is forbidden by Man, but permitted by God, and
alio by the Apoftlcs, this is a capital Crime. Faffcs, tho'
it is not certain they were commanded by the Apoftles, yet
they are recommended in their Examples and Epiftles. But
the forbidding the eating of Meats, that God has made to
be eaten with Thankfgiving, if we were to defend that before
St. Vaulj as a Judge, to what Shifts fhould we be driven ?
And yet, almoft all the World over. Men eat plentifully,
and no body is offended at it ; but if a fick Man tafte a Bit
of a Chicken, the whole Chriftian Religion is in danger. In
England the common People have a Supper every other Day,
in Le?2t time, and no body wonders at it j but if a Man, at
Death's Door in a Fever, fhould fap a little Chicken Broth,
it is accounted a Crime worfe than Sacrilege. Among the
fame Perfons in Lent time, than which there is nothing of .
greater Antiquity, nor more religioufly obferv'd among
Chriftians, as I have faid before, they fup without any Pe-
nalty i but if you fhall attempt to do the fame^ after Lent
h over, on a Friday., no body will bear itj if you ask the
Kcafonof it; they'll tell you 'cis theCuftcm of the Country,
They
C 38« 1
Ti^y curfe a Man who does not obferve the ' CuHom of tl^
Country, and yet they forgive themfelves the Neglect of the
antient Cuftom of the univerfal Church. Fijh. He is not to
be approved, that without Caufe negleds the Cuftom of the
Country wherein he lives. But. No more do I blame them
that divide Lent between God and their Bellies; but I find
fault with prepofterous Cenfuring in Matters. FiJh. Tho' the
Lord's Day was inrtituted in an efpecial Manner, that Perfons
might meet together to hear the Gofpel preach'd j he that
does not hear Mafs, is look'd upon as an abominable Sinner j
but he that negle6ts to hear a Sermon, and plays at Ball in
the time, is innocent. But. What a mighty Crime is it
accounted for any one to receive the Sacrament, not having
firfl: wafh'd his Mouth } when, at the fame time, they do
not ftick to take it with an unpurified Mind, defiled with
vile AfFeftions. But. How many Priefts are there, that
would die before they would participate the Sacrament in a
Chalice and Charger, that has not been confecrated by a
Bifliop, or in their Every-day Clothes ? But among them all
that are thus nice, how many do we fee that are not at all
afraid to come to the Lord's Table, drunk with the lail
Night's Debauch ? How fearful are they, left they fhould
touch the Wafer with that Part of the Hand that has not
. been dipp'd in confecrated Oil ? Why are they not as reli-
gious in taking care, that an unhallow'd Mind does not
offend the Lord himfelf .^ But. We won'^ fo much as touch
a confecrated Vefiel, and think we have been guilty of a
heinous Offence, if we fliall chance fo to do ; and yet in
the mean time, how unconcern'd are we, while we violate
the Hving Temples of the Holy Spirit ? Fijb. Human Con-
ftitutions require that no Baftard, lame, or one that hath
but one Eye, be admitted to any facred Fundion ; how nice
are we as to this Point ? But in the mean time, Unlearned,
Gamefters, Drunkards, Soldiers, and Murderers, are admit-
ted every where. They tell us, that the Difeafes of the
Mind lie not open to our View : I don't fpeak of thofe things
that are hidden, but of fuch as are more plain to be feen
than the Deformity of the Body. There are Bilhops like-
wife, that have nothing, as to their Function to value them-
felves upon, but fome fordid Accomplifliments. The Gift
of Preaching, which is the chief Dignity of a Bifnop, this
they make to give place to every fordid thing j which they
would never do, unlefs they were poiTefs'd with a pre-
pofterous Judgment. He that fliall profane a Holy-day
inftituted by a Bifhop, is hurried away to Puniflimcnt: but
feme great Men fecting at nought the Confcitution of Popes
amd
[ 380
aiid Councilsj and all their Thunder-bolts, who hinder Ca^
nonical Eleftions, ravage the Church-Lands, not fparing
Alms-Houfes and Hofpitals, ereded by the Alms of pious
Perfons for the Succour of the Old, Sick, and Needy, think
themfelves Chriftians good enough, if they do but wreak
their ill Temper upon Perfons that offend in trivial Matters.
But. But we had better let great Men alone, and talk about
Salt-Fifh and Flefli. Ftp. I agree with you : Let us return
to Fails and Fifli. I have heard fay that the Pope's Laws
do by Name except Boys, old Men, and (ick and weak Per-
fons, fuch as work hard. Women with Child, fucldng Chil-
dren, and very poor People. But. I have often heard the
fame. FijfJj. I have alfo heard a very great Divine, I think
his Name is Gerfon, fay further, if there be any other Cafe
of equal Weight with thofe which the Pope's Laws
except by Name, the Force of the Precept gives way ill
like manner. For there are peculiar Habits of Body whicH
render the Want of fome things • more material than an
evident Difeafe j and there are Diilempers that do not appear
that are more dangerous than thofe that do : therefore he
that is acquainted with his own Conftitution, has no need
to confult a Prieft; even as Infants do not, becaufe their
Circumftances exempt them from the Law. And therefore
they that oblige Boys, or very old Men, or Perfons otherwifei
weak, to faft, commit a double Sin : Firft, againft Brotherly
Charity : And fecondly, againft the very Intention of the
Pope, who would not involve them in a Law, the Obfer-
vation of which would be pernicious to them. Whatfoever
Chrift has ordered, he has ordained for the Health of Body
and Mind both; neither does any Pope claim to himfelf
fuch a Power, as by any Conftitution of his, to bring any
Perfon into danger of Life : As, fuppofe that any Perfon by
not eating in the Evening, fliould not reft at Night, and fb
for want of Sleep be in danger of growing light-headed, he
is a Murderer, both againft the Senfe of the Church, and
the Will of God. Princes, as oft as it fuits with their Con-
veniency, publiih an Edi6t threatning with a capital Punifh-
ment : How far their Power extends I will not determine ;
but this I will venture to fay, they would a6t more fafely, if
they did not inflict Death for any other Caufes, than fuch as
are exprefs'd in the Holy Scriptures. In things blame-wor- j
thy, the Lord dehorts from going to the Extremity of thdj
Limits, as in the Cafe of Perjury, forbidding to fwear atl
all; in Murder, forbidding to be angry; we by a humanj
Conftitution force Perfons upon the extreme Crime of Ho-*|
micide, which we call Neceffity. Nay, as ofc ^s a probable j
Gaufflfl
t 383 ]
Caufe appears, it is a Duty of Charity, of our own accord,'
to exhort our Neighbour to thofe things that the Weaknefs '
of his Body requires : And if there be no apparent Caufe,
yet it is the Duty of Chriftian Charity kindly to fuppofe it
may he done with ft good Intention, unlefs it carries- along
with it a manifeft Contempt of the Church. A prefane
Magiftrate very juftly punifhes thofe that eat contumacioufly
and feditioufly ^ but what every one fhall eat in his own
Houfe, is rather 'the Bufmefs of a Phyfician than a Magi-
ftrate : Upon which Account, if any Perfon fliall be fo wicked
as to caufe any Diforder j they are guilty of Sedition, and
not the Perfon that confults his own Health, and breaks no
Law, neither of God nor Man. In this the Authority of
the Pope is mifapplied j 'tis abfurd to pretend the Authority
of Popes in this Cafe, who are Perfons of fo much Huma-
nity, that if they did but know a good Reafon for it, they
would of their own accord invite them to thofe things that
are for their Health, and defend them by Difpenfations
againft the Slanders of all Perfons ^ and befides, throughout
Italy^ they permit Flelh to be fold in certain Markets, for
the fake of the Health of fuch Perfons as are not compre-
hended in that Law. Befides, I have heard Divines that have
not been precife in their Sermons, fay, Don't be afraid at
Supper-time to eat a Piece of Bread, or drink a Pint of
Wine or Ale, to fupport the Weaknefs of the Body. If they
take upon them the Authority of indulging, fo that they will
indulge a fmall Supper to thofe that are in Health, and that
contrary to the Ordinance of the Church, which requires
Fafting ; may they not permit not only a fmall Supper, but a
pretty hearty one, to fuch Perfons v/hofe Weakneis reqtiires
it, and the Popes themfelves exprefly declare that they approve
j it } If any one treats his Body with Severity, it may be called
Zeal, for every one knows his own Conftitution beft ^ but
j v;here is the Piety and the Charity of thofe Perfons that-
reduce a weak Brother, wherein the Spirit is willing, but the
!' Flefh weak, even to Death's Door, or bringing him into a
\ Difeafe worfe than Death itfelf, againft the Law of Nature,
\ the Law of God, and the Senfe and Meaning of the Law of
j the Pope himfelf ? But. What you mention brings to my
Mind what I faw my felf about two Years fince : I believe
you know 'Eros [i] an old Man, about fixty Years of Age,
[.8] Erotem. Here is meant Erafims himfelf, as appears in the Account
of his Life ; for both the Names figaify Lovsly, and are of the fame Od-
final, /. e. from f^dta, I love,
a Man
, ' [ 384]
ft Man of a very weakly Conftimtion, who by a lingrlrig
Illneis, acute Difeafes, and hard Studies, even enough to .
kill a Horfe, was brought to Death's Door. This Man by
fome occult Quality in Nature, had, from a Child, a great
Averfion to eating Fifh, and an Inability to endure Failing,
fo that he never attempted them v/ithout imminent Ha7.ard
of his Life ; at laft obtain'd a Diipenfation from the Pope
to defend him againft the malevolent Tongues of fome
Pharifaical Spirits. He not long ago, upon the Invitation of
Friends, goes to the City Ekutheropolis, a City not at all like
its Name : it was then Lent-time, and a Day or two were
devoted to the Enjoyment of his Friends, in the mean time
Fifli was the common Diet ', but he, left he gave Offence to
any Perfon, tho' he had his Neceffity to juftify him, as well
as the Pope's Difpenfation to bear him out, eat Fifh. He
perceived his old Diftemper coming upon him, which was
worfe than Death it felf : fo he prepares to take his Leave
of his Friends, and go home j being neceffitated fo to do,
unlefs he would lie lick there. Some there fufpedting that
he was in fuch hafte to go, becaufe he could not bear to eat
Fifh, got Glaucoplutusj a very learned Man, and a chief
Magiftrate in that Province, to invite him to Breakfaft.
Eros being quite tir'd with Company, which he could not
avoid in a pubHck Inn, confented to go, but upon this Con-
dition, that he fliould make no Provifion, but a Couple of
Eggs, which he would eat ftanding, and immediately take
Horfe and be gone. He was promifed it fhould be as he
defir'd ^ but when he comes, there v/as a Fowl provided :
Eros taking it ill, tailed nothing but the Eggs, and riling
from Table, took Horfe, fome learned Men bearing him
Company Part of the Way. But however it came about, the
Smell of the Fowl got into the Nofes of fome Sycophants,
and there was as great a Noife in the City, as if ten Men
had been murder'd ; nor was the Noife confin'd there, but
was carried to other Places two Days Journey off, and, as is
uftial, ftill gained by carrying ; adding, that if Eros had not
got away, he had been carried before the Juftice, which
tho' that was faife, yet true it was, that Glaucopletus wa«
obliged to give the Magiftrate Satisfaction . But now confi-
dering the Circumftances of Eros-, had he eat Flefh in pub-
Hck, who could juflly have been offended at it ? And yet in
the fame City all Lent-time, but efpecially on Holidays,
tliey drink till they are mad, baul, dance,-fight, play at Dice
at the Church-door, fo that you can't hear what the Parfoa
fays when he is preaching ; and this is no Offence, Fijb.
A wonderful Perverfity of Judgment .' But. Ill tell you ano-
ther
[58i]
tlier Story not much unlike this : It is now almofl two Years
fince the fame Eros went for the fake of his Health to Fer-
'ventiaj and I out oF Civility bore him Company. He went
to an old Friend's Houfe, who had given him frequent In^d-
tations by Letters : He was a great Man, and one of the
Pillars of the Church. When they came to eating of Fifli,
Erof began to be in his old Condition j a whole Troop of
Diftempers were coming upon him, a Fever, {evere Head-
ach, Vomiting, and the Stone. His Landlord, tho' he faw
his Friend in this Danger, did not dare to give him a Bit of
Flefh-meat j but why ? hefiw a great many Rcafons that he
might do. it j he faw likewife the Pope's Licence : but ha was
afraid of pubUck Cenfure j and the Difeafe had grown fo far
upon him, that then it was in vain to give it him. F/Jb,
What did Eros do ? I know the Man's Temper, he'd fooner
die than be injurious to his Friends Bui. He fliut liim-felf up
in a Chamber, and lived three Days after his own Manner ^j
his Dinner was one Egg, and his Drink Water and Sugaf
boil'd. As foon as his Fever was abated he took Horfe,
carrying Provifion along with him. 'Fijb. What was it ?
But. Almond-Milk in a Bottle, and dry'd Grapes in his
Portmanteau. When he came home, the Stone fciz'd him,
and hfe lay by it for 0. whole Month. But for all this, after he
was gone, there was a very hot, but a falfe Report of eating
Plefh follow'd him, which reach'd as far as Paris ; and a
great many notorious Lyes told about it. What Remedy do
you think proper for fach Offences ? FifJj. I would have
every Body empty their Chamber-pots upon their Heads, and
if they happen to m.eet them in the Street, to ftop their Nofes
while they go by them, that they may be brought to a Senfe
of their Madnefs. But. I think truly the Divines ought to
write fliarply againft' fuch Pharifaical Impiety. But what is.
your Opinion of his Landlord ? Fifb. He feems to me a very
prudent Man, who knows from what frivolous Caufes the
People excite fuch difmal Tragedies. But. This may in-
deed be the EfFed of Prudence, and vi^e may interpret the
good Mans Timoroufnefs as favourably as may be ; but
how many are there, who in the like Cafe fufFer their
Brother to die, and pretend aCautioufnefs to ad againft the
Ufage of the Church, and to the Offence of the People ;
but have no Fear upon them of ading to the Offence of the
People, in living a Life publickly fcandalous, in Rioting,
Whoring, Luxury, and Idlenefs, in the higheft Contempt of
Religion, in Rapine, Simony, and Cheating ? Fi'l. There
are too many fuch ; that which they call Piety, is nothing
but a barbarous and impious Cruelty. But yet methinks they
C c feena
I
[ 386 ]
feem to be rtiore cruel, who. do not leave a Man in dangef
occafionally, but invent Dangers for him, and force many
into them as into a Trap, into manifeft Danger of both Body
and Soul, efpecially having no Authority for it. But. I wait
to hear what you have to fay. FiJJj. About thirty Years
ago I liv'd at Paris, in the College call'd Vinegar-Co (Jege,
But. That's a Name of Wifdom : But what Jay you ? Did
a Salt-Filhmonger dwell in that four College ? No wonder
then, he is fo acute a Difputant in Queftions in Divinity ;
for, as I hear, the very Walls there teach Divinity. Ftjh.
You fay very right ; but as for me, I brought nothing out of
it but my Body full of grofs Humours, and my Clothes full
of Lice. But to go on as I began : At that time one John
Stavdonius was Prelident, a Man whofe Temper you would
not miflike, and whofe Qualifications you would covet j for
as I remember, in his Youth, v/hen he was very poor him-
felf, he was very charitable, and that is much to be com-
mended j and if he had flill fupply'd the Neceffities of young
Perfons, as he found them Materials for going on with their
Studies, he would not have had fo much Money to have
fpent laviiTily, but would have done praife-worthily : But
what with lying hard, by bad and fpare Diet, late and hard
Studies, within one Year's Space, of many young Men of a
good Genius, and very hopeful, fome he kill'd, others he
blindedj others he made run diftrailed, and others he
brought into the Leprofy, fome of whom I know very well i
and in fhort, not one of them but what was in danger by
him. Was not this Cruelty againft one's Neighbour ? Neither
did this content him, but adding a Cloke and Cowl, he took
away the eating of Flefh altogether, and tranfplanted fuch
Plants as thofe into far diftant Countries : So that if every
one ihouid give themfelves fuch a Liberty as he did him-
felf, their Followers would over-fpread the whole Face of
the Earth. If Monafteries had their Rife from fuch Begin-
nings as thefe, what Danger are not only Popes, but Kings
themfelves in ! It is a pious thing to glory in the Conver-
fion of a Neighbour to Piety ; but to feek for Glory in a
Drefs or Diet, is Pharifaical. To fupply the Want of a
Neighbour, is a Part of Piety i to take care that tlie Libe-
rality of good Men be not converted to Luxury, is Difcipline ;
but to drive a Brother into Diilempers, Madnefs, and Death,
is Cruelty, is murdering him. The Intention of Murder
may, indeed, be wanting, but Murder it is. Perhaps fome
will fay, no body forces them into this kind of Life ^ they
come into it voluntary, they beg to be admitted, and they
tXQ. at Liberty to go away when they are weary of it j but
this
[387]
this is a cruel AnfWer. Is it to be thought, that young Men
can tell better what is good for them, than Men of Learning,
Experience, and Age ? A Man might thus excufe hijnfelf to
a Wolf, that had drawn him into a Trap, when he was almoft
famifli'd with Hunger. But can he that fets unwholefoni
and poifonous Food before a Man that is ready to gnaw
his Flefh for Hunger, fo excufe himfelf to him when he is
perifhing, by faying,No body forc'd you to eat it, you devour'd
what was fet before you willingly and eagerly ? May he not
juftly anfwer him. You have not given me Food, butPoifon?
Neceflity is very prevalent. Hunger is very fharp j therefore
let them forbear to ufe thefe plaufible Excufes. They were,
indeed, at liberty to let it alone; but whofoever ufes fuch
Engines, ufes Force. Neither did this Cruelty only deftroy
mean Perfons, but many Gentlemens Sons too, and fpoil'd
many a hopeful Genius. It is, indeed, the Part of a Father,
to hold in Youth, that is apt to grow lafcivious, by Refbraint.
But in the very Depth of Winter, here's a Morfel of Bread
given them when they ask for their Commons ; and as for
tiieir Drink, they muft draw that out of a Well that gives
bad Water, unwholefome of itfelf, if it were not made the
worfe by the Coldnefs of the Morning : I have known many
that were brought to fuch an iU State of Health, that they
have never got over it to this Day. There were Chambers on
a Ground-floor, and rotten Plaifter, they flood near a {linking
Houfe of Office, in which none ever dwelt, but he either
got his Deathj or fome grievous Diftemper. I fhall fay
nothing of the unmerciful Whippings, even of innocent
Perfons. This they fay is to break their Fiercenefs, for {q
they call a fprightly Genius^ and therefore, they thus cow
their Spirits, to make them more humble in the Monalle*'
ries : Nor fiiall I take notice how many rotten Eggs were
eaten j nor how much four Wine was drank. Perhaps thefe
things may be mended now j but however, 'tis too late for
thofe that are dead already, or carry about an infsded CarcaG.
Nor do I mention thefe things becaufe I have any ill Will to
the College, but I thought it worth while to give this Moni-
tion, left human Severity ihould mar inexperienc'd and tender
Age, under the Pretence of Religion. How much Civility,
or true Piety, may be taught there at prefent, I don't deter-
mine. If I could but fee that thofe that put on a Cowl,
put oft Naughtinels, I fhould exhort every body to wear
one. But beiides, the Spirit of a vigorous Age is not to be
cow'd for this fort of Life ; but the Mind is to be form'd for
Piety. I Can fcarce enter into a Carthuftan Monaftery, but I
find fome Fools and fome Madmen among them. But it i"?
C c 2 time
[ 388 ]
lime now, after f6 long a DigrelTion, to return to our firfl:
PropofiLion. Buf. We lofe nothing by the Digreffion, as
Jong as we have talk'd to the Purpofe j but, perhaps, you
^ave fomething further to add concerning human Conftitu-
tions. Fif/j. In my Mind, he does by no Means obferve a
human Conftitution, who neglects to do what he aim'd at
that ordain d it. He that upon Holydays forbears working,
and does not employ them in divine Duties, profanes the
Day, by negle6ting to do that for which End it was appointed ;
therefore is oile good Work forbidden that a better may be
done. But now, as for thofe that leave their fecular Employ,
to go to Junketting, Whoring, and Drinking, Fighting and
Gaming, they are guilty of a double Profanation of it. But,
It is my Opinion, that the Task of faying Prayers was impofed
wponPriefts and Monks for this Purpofe, that by this Exercife
they might accuftom themfelves to lift up their Hearts to
God : and yet he that neglefts faying his Prayers, is in
Danp-er to be' punifhed,- but he that only mumbles over
the Words with his Mouth, and does not regard the Mean-
ing of 'em, nay, nor take Pains fo much as to learn the
Language they are written in, without which he can't tell
what the Sound meaneth, is accounted a good Man by others,
and he thinks himfelf fuch. Fi/b. I know a great many Priefts
that look upon it a heinous Sin to omit any Pari; of their
Prayers, or by JN'Iiftake to have faid concerning the Virgin
Marj, when they fhould have faid concerning Sr. Paul.
But the fame Perfons count it no Crime to game, whore,
and drink, tho' thefe things are forbidden both by the Law
of God and Man. But. Nay, I my felf have known a great
many, that would fooner die than be perfuaded to take the
•Sacrament after they had chanc'd to tafte a Bit of Food, or
let a Drop of Water go down their Throat while they were
vvafhing their Mouths , yet the fame Perfons will own, that
they have fo much Malice againft fome, that, if they had
an Opportunity, they would kill them ^ nor are they afraid
with this Temper of Mind to approach the Lord's Table.
Fijb. That they take the Sacrament falling, is a human
Ordinance j but that they lay afide Wrath before they come
to the Lord's Table, is a Command of the Lord himfelf.
But. But then again, how prepofteroufly do we judge con-
cerning Perjury ? He is accounted an infamous Perfon, who
fwears he has paid a Debt, when it is proved he has not.
But Perjury is not charged upon a Prieft, who publickly lives
unchaftly, tho' he publickly profefs a Life of Chaftity. F//lf.
Why don't you tell this to the Bifliops Vicars, who fwear
before the Altar, that they have found all that they ^leknt
to
[ 38^ ]
-to be cntrei into holy Orders, to be fir Perfons in Age,
Learning and M mners j when for the moft part there are
fcarce two or tliree that are tolerable, and moft of them
fcarce fit to follow the Plow ? But. He is punifhed, that
being provok'd, P^vears in a Paffion j but they that forfwear
themfelves every three Words they fpeak, fcape fcot-free.
Fifb. But they don't fwear from their Hearts. But. By the
fame colourable Pretence you may vindicate a Man that
kills another, faying, he did not do it in his Heart. Perjury
is • not lawful either in jeft or earneft j "and it .would make
the Crime the greater to kill a Man in jeft. Fijh. What if we
fkould weigh the Oaths Princes take at their Coronation in
the fame Scale ? But. Thefe things, tho' indeed they are
very ferious Matters,being done cuftomarily,are not accounted
Perjuries. There is the fame Complaint concerning Vows.
The Vow of Matrimony is without doubt of divine Right j
yet it is di{Ibived/.jy entring into a monaftick Life of Man's
Invention. And tho' there is no Vow more religious than
that of Baptifra, yet he that changes his -Habit, or his Place,
is fought after, apprehended, confin'd, and fometimcs put
to Death for the Honour of the Order, as tho' he had
murder'd his Father j but thofe v/hofe Lives are diametri-
cally repugnant to their Baptifmal Vows, in that they fcrve
Mammon, their Bellies, and the Pom.ps of this World, are
in mighty Efteem, are never charged with breaking their
Vow, nor upbraided, nor call'd Apoftates j but are reckon-d
good Chriftians. But. The common People have the like
Efteem of good and bad Deeds, and the Safeguard of Vir-
tue : What a Scandal is it for a Maid to be overcome ? But
a lying, flanderous Tongue, and a malicious, envious Mind,
3re greater Crimes j and where is it that a fmall Theft is
not punifh'd more feverely than Adulter)'. No body v/JU
willingly keep him Company that has been accufed of
Theft i but it is accounted a Piece of Honour, to hold a
Familiarity with fuch as are drench'd in Adultery. No body
will deign to marry a Daughter to a Hangman who executes
the Law for a Livelihood, and a Judge does the fame;
but they have no Averfion at all to the Affinity of a Soldier,
who has run away from his Parents, and lifted himfelf a
Soldier for Hire, and is defiled with all the Rapes, Thefts,
Sacrileges, Murders, and other Crimes, that ufed to be com-
mitted in their Marches, Camps, and Retreats; this may
be taken for a Son in Law, and tho' he be worfe than any
Hangman, a Maid may love him dearly, and account him a
noble Perfonage. He that fteals a litrle Money muft be
C c 3 hang'd ;
[
35)0]
hang'd ; but they that cheat the Publick of their Money,
and impoverifh Thoufands by Monopolies, Extortions, and
Tricking and Cheating, are held in great Efteem. Fijh.
They that poifon one Perfon, are hang'd for it i but they
that poifon a whole Nation with infedious Prorifions go
unpunifh'd. But. I know fome Monks fo fuperftitious, that
they think themfelves in the Jaws of the DevH, if by chance
they arc without their facred Veftments; but they are not A.^
at all afraid of his Claws, while they are lying, flandering,
drunkftning, and afting malicioufly. FijJj. There are a great
many fuch to be feen among private Perfons, that can't think
their Houfe fafe from evil Spirits, unlefs they have holy
V/ater, holy Leaves, and Wax Tapers j but they are not
afraid of 'em becaufe God is fo often offended in them, and
the Devil ferved in them. But. How many are there, who
pat more Truft in the Safeguard of the Virgin Mary, or
St. Chrifiopheri than of Chriil himfelf ? They worfhip the
Mother with Images, Candles, and Songs ■, and offend Chrift
heinoufly by their impious Living. A Mariner when in a
Storm is more ready to invoke St. Chrifiopher, or fbme one
or other of the Saints, than Chrift himfelf. And they think
they ha^'^e made the Virgin their Friend, by finging her in
the Evening the little Song, Salve Regifm, tho' they don't
know what it is they do fmg ; when they have more Reafon
to be afraid, that the Virgin fhould think they jeer her by
their fo finging, when the whole Day, and great Part of
the Night is fpent in obfcene Difcourfes, Drunkennefs, and
fuch Doings as are not fit to be mentioned. Fi/h. Ay ; and
fo a Soldier, when he's about any dangerous Enterprife, is
more ready to remember George, or Barbara, than Chrift.
And tho' there is no Reverence more acceptable to the Saints,
than the Imitation of their Deeds, by which they have.ap-
prov'd themfelves to Chrift, that is defpis'd as much as can
be j and we fancy that St. Anthony is mightily attach'd to us,
if we keep fome Hogs confecrated to him, and have him
painted upon Doors and Walls with his Hog, his Fire, and
his 6ell ; and never fear that which is more to be dreaded,
left he fliould look with an evil Eye upon thofe Houfes,
where thofe WickednelTes reign, that the holy Man always
abhorred. Do we fay over Rofaries and Salutations to the holy
Virgin? wefhould rather recount to her the Humiliation of
our Pride, the reprefling our Lufts, the forgiving of Injuries.
The Mother of Chrift takes more Delight in fuch Songs as
thefe, and thefe are the Offices that oblige them both.
But. A Man that is lick is more ready to remember St.
Txochui
Itochui [i], or Dlonyfius [2], than Chrift, the only Health
of Mankind j and more than that, they that from the Pulnic
interpret the holy Scriptures, which none, without the Aflif-
tance of the Spirit, can rightly underftand, or profitably
teach j they chufe rather to invoke the Aid of the Virgin
Mary^ than of Chrift or his Spirit. And he's fufpeded for
a Heretick, that dares to mutter again fb this Cuftom which
they call laudable. But the Cuftom of the antient Fathers
was much more laudable, fuch as Origeny Bajil, Chrj'fofitvny
Cyprian, Ambrofej Jerom-y and Atifiin ufed, who often invoked
• Chrifi's Spirit, but never implored the Aid of the Virgin :
But they are not at all difpleafed at them, who have pre-
fumed to alter fo holy a Cuftom, taken from the Doctrine
of Chrift and the Apoftles, and the Examples of holy
Fathers. Fip. /*^ -great many Monks are guilty of fuch like
Errors, who perfuade themfelves that St. Be7iediS is migh-
tily attach'd to them, if they wear his Cowl and Cloke j tlio'
I don't believe he ever wore one fo full of Folds, and thiC
coftfo much Money; and they are not afraid of his Anger,
in that they do not imitate him in his Life ar all. But. He
is a very good Son of St. Francis, who does not difdain to
wear an Am-colour'd Habit, and a Canvas Girdle j but com-
pare their Lives, and nothing can be more difagreeable : I
ipeak of a great many, but not of all. And this may be
carried thro' all Orders and Profeffions. A prepofterous Confi-
dence fprings from an erroneous Judgment, and from them
both, prepofterous Scandals. Let but a Francifcau go our of
Doors with a Leather Girdle, if he has chanced to lofe his
Rope; or an -^«^»)?7V/e with a Woollen one, or one that ufes
to wear a Girdle without one; what an Abomination would it
be accounted ? What Danger is there, that if fome Women
fhould fee this, they vVould mifcarry ! And from fuch Trifles
as thefe, how is brotherly Charity broke in upon ! what bitter
Envyings, how virulent SlanderingS ! The Lord exxlaims
againft thefe in the Gofpel, and fo does Faul vehemendy,
and fo ought DivineSi and Preachers to do. Fifh. Indeed
they ought to do fo ; but there are a great many among
them, whofe Intereft it is to have People, Princes, and
Bifhops, fuch as they are themfelves. And there are others
again, that have no more Senfe, as to thefe things, than
[i] Rochuf. A new fafliioned French Saint, a notaUe ^^nthnfiaft, who
died in Prifon in Lattguedoc, Anno 1327, -and is faid to have wronght many
Miracles, and to have cured a great many of the Plague in holy.
[2] liionyJtHT. He is accounted to have been the firft Bifliop of Pnn'f,
ef whom they report, that having had his Head cut off, {ic caiiitvi ic m
^ Hands.
C C 4 ths
C S9^ ]
die People themfelvesi or if they do know better, they
diiTemble it, confuking their own Bellies, rather than the
Intereft of Jcfus Cbrifi. And hence it comes to pafs, that
the People being every where corrupted with erroneous
Judgments, are fecure where there is Danger, and fearful
where there is none j can fit down fatisfied where they
flaould proceed, and go forward when they fhould return.
And if a Man attempt to bring any one oflf from thefe erro-
neous Principles, prefently they cry out Sedition j as tho' it
were Sedition for any one, with better Remedies, to endea-
vour to corred a vitious Habit of Body, which an ignorant
Pretender to Phyfick has for a long time nourifhed, and
almoft brought it to be natural. But 'tis time to leave "ofi
thefe Complaints, for there is no End of them. And if the
People fhould hear what Difcourfe we have, we are in danger
to have a new Proverb raifed upon us, That a Salt-Filli-
monger and a Butclier trouble their Heads about fach things.
But. If they did, I would return this Proverb upon them,
S^pe etiam efi olifor cpportune locutls [i]. A little while
ago I was talking of thefe things at the Table, and, as ill
Luck would have it, there fat a ragged, loufy, ftern, old,
v/ithcr'd, v/hite-Iiver'd Fellow, he had fcarce three Hairs on
his Head, and whenever he open'd his Mouth, he fhut his
Eyes j they laid he was a Divine, and he call'd me a Dis-
ciple of Jlwtkbrift^ and a great many fuch like things. Fip.
\Vhat did you do then ? Did you fay nothing ? But. I
vvifh'd him a Dram of found Judgment in his ftinking
Brain, if he. had any. Tijh. I fhould be glad to hear the
whole of that Story. But. So you fhiall, if you will come
and dine with me on Thurfday next j you fhall have a Veal-
Pye for Dinner, fo tender bak'd, that,you may fuck it thro^
a Quill. Fijh. Ill promife you I will come ^ if you'll come
and dine with me on Friaay, I'll convince you, that we
lufiimongers don't live merely on ftinking Salt-Fifli.
fx] .^ Carder.sr often is fo "Jjifsj
He others fitly can advife.
rhe
[ m 3
rte FUNERAL.
The Argument.'
This Colloquy faints out the different hinds of Deaths in two
pn^'ate Perfons, defcrihing, as, in a PiBure, the extrava-
gant Exfence that thofe Perfons are at, nvho put their
Confidence in Pi^ions-^ more than thofe that trufh in the
Mercy of God. In the Perfon of George Balearicus, he
takes Occafton to rally the foolifo Ambition of rich Men-,
ivho extend their Luxury and Pride beyond even Death it
felf. That the Way to Death is harder than Death it
felf. That God luould therefore have Death to be terrible
to us, that toe might not be ready to contemn Life. That
Phyflcians dont ufe to be prefent inhere Perfons are dying.
Of the Orders of Monks, -who play upon the Folly of rich
Men for their ovjn Gain, when it fljould be their Bufnefs
efpecially to correB it. The Pompoufnefs of the Venedaiis
at Funerals, althd' it be bv,t that of a Cohler. Cornelius,
a Man truly pious, compofes himfelf for Death aftsr ano-
ther, and indeed a more Chrifiian Manner.
MARCOLPHUS, PH^DRUS.
Mar. "ITTHere have you been, Phsdrus ? What are you
VV juft come out of Tropho?iius''s Cave ? Ph. What
makes you ask me that Queftioii? Mar. Becaufe you look
fo horridly fad, four, and flovenly , in fhort, you don't look at
all like what you are called. Ph. If they that have been
a long time in a Smith's Shop, commonly have a dirty Face,
do you wonder, that I that have been fo m-iny Dcys v/ith two
Friends that were fick, dyin;T, and are novv' dead, fhoald
look a little more fad than I ufed to do, efpecially when
they were both of them my very dear Friends ? Mar. Who
are they that you talk of? Ph. I luppois you know George
'Balearicus, don't you ? Mar. I know him by Name, and
that's all ; I never faw his Face. Ph. I know the other was^
wholly a Stranger to you ; his Name was Ccrrnelitis Montius.
They were both of them my partkular F. lends, and had
[ 3^4 ] .
been fo for many Years. Mar. It was never my Lot to be
by where any one was dying. Fh. But it has been mine
too often, if I might have had my Wifh. Mar. Well, but
is Death fo terrible a thing as they make it? Ph. The
Way to't is worfe than the thing itfelf j fo that if a Man
could free his Mind from the Terror and Apprehenfion of
it, he would take away the worft Part of it. And, in fhort,
whatfoever is tormenting, either in Sicknefs or in Death it
felf, is render'd much more eafy by Refignation to the Will
of God i for, as to the Senfe of Death, when the Soul is
departing from the Body, I am of Opinion, they are either
wholly infenfible, or the Faculty is become very dull and
ftupid j becaufe Nature, before it comes to that Point, lays
afleep, and ftupifies all the fenfible Faculties. Mar. We are
born without Senfe of Pain, as to our felves. Ph. But we
are not born without Pain to our Mother. Mar. Why might
we not die fo ? Why would God make Death fo full of Pain ?
Th. He was pleafed to make Birth painful and dangerous to
the Mother, to make the Child the dearer to her ; and
Death formidable to Mankind, to deter them from laying
violent Hands upon themfelves j for when we fee fo many
make away themfelves, as the Cafe ftands, what do you
think they would do, if Death had no Terror in it ? As often
as a Servant, or a Son, is correded, or a Woman is angry at
her Husband, any thing is loft, or any thing goes crofs.
Men would prefently repair to Halters, Swords, Rivers, Pre-
cipices, or Poifons. Now the Bitternefs of Death makes us
put a greater Value upon -Life, efpecially fince the Dead are
out of the Reach of the Doctor. Altho', as we are not all
bom alike, fo we do not all die alike ; fome die fuddenly,
others pine away with a languiihing Illnels ; thofe that are
fcized with a Lethargy, and fuch as are ftung by an Afp, are
as it were caft into a found Sleep, and die without any Senfe
of Pain. I have made this Obfervation, that there is no
Death fo painful, but a Man may bear it by Refolution.
Mar. But which of them bore his Death the moft like a
Chriftian ? Pb. Why truly, in my Opinion, George died
the moft like a Man of Honour. Mar. Why then, is there
any Senfe of Ambition, when a Man comes to that Point ?
Ph. I never faw two People make fuch different Ends. If
you will give me the Hearing, I'll tell you what End each of
them made, and you ftiall judge which of them a Chriftian
would chufe to make. Mar. Give you the Hearing ! Nay,
I dcfirc you will not think much of the Trouble, for I have
the grentcft Mirtd in the World to hear it. Ph. Well then,
you fliall iirfl hear how George died. As foon as ever the
certaia
[ 39S ]
certain Symptoms of Death appeared, the Phyficians, v/ho
had attended upon him during his Sicknefsj faying never a
Word of the Defpair they had of his Life, demanded their
Fees. Mar. How many Dodtors had he ? Ph. Sometimes
ten, fometimes twelve, but never under fix. Mar. Enough
in Confcience to have done the Bufinefs of a Ma'n in perfed:
Health. Fh. As foon as ever they had gotten their Money,
they privately hinted to fome of his near Relations, that his
Death was near at hand, and that they fliould talce care of
the Good of his Soul, for there was no Hope of his R.ecovery j
and this was handfbmly intimated by fome of his particular
Friends to the fick Man himfelf, defiring him that he would
commit the Care of his Body to God, and only mind thofe
things that related to a happy Exit out of this World. George
hearing this, look'd wonderful fourly at the Phyficians, taking
it very heinoufly, that they fhould leave him now in hij
Diftrefs. They told him, that Phyficians were but Men,
and not Gods, and that they had done what Art could do,
but there was no Phyfick would avail againft Fate ; and fo
went into the next Chamber. Mar. What did they ftay for
after they were paid ? Ph. They were not yet agreed upon
the Diftemper j one would have it to be a Dropfy, another a
Tympany, another an Impofthume in the Guts : every Man
of them would have it to be a different Difeafe ; and this
Difpute they were very hot upon all the time he was fick.
Mar. The Patient had a bleffed rime of it all this while !
Ph. And to decide this Controverfy, they defired by his
Wife, that the Body might be opened, which would be for
his Honour, being a thing very ufual among Perfons of Qua-
lity, and very beneficial to a great many others j and that it
would add to the Bulk of his Merits; and laftly, they promifed
they would purchafe thirty Maffes at their own Charge
for the Good of his Soul. It was a hard Matter to bring
him to it, but at laft, by the Importunities and fair Words of
his Wife and near Relations, he was brought to confent to it i
and this being done, the Confukation was diflblvedi for they
fay, it is not convenient that Phyficians, whofe Bufinefs ir is
to preferve Life, fliould be Spedators of their Patient's
Death, or prefent at their Funerals. By and by Bernar-
dine was fent for to take his Confeflfion, who is, you know,
a very reverend Man, and Warden of the Francifiafis. His
Confeffion v/as fcarce over, but there was a w'hole houf^fd
of the four Orders of begging Frj-ars, as they are called.
Mar. What ! fo many Vultures to one CarcaD ? Fi>. And
now the Parifh-Priefi Was called, to give him the Extreiue
Un'ftiori; and the Sacrament of the Luchariil. M^'r. That
\va3
C i9^ \
was very religioufly done. Ph. But there had like to have
been a very bloody Fray between the Parifli-Prieft and the
Monks. Mar. What, at the fick Man's Bed-fide.? Th.
Nay, and Chrift himfelf looking on too. Mar. Pray, what
was the Occafion of fo fudden a Hurly-burly ? Th. The Par-
fon of the Pa'rifh, fo foon as ever he found the fick Man had
confefs'd to the Francifcanj did point-blank refufe to give
him either the extreme Unition, the Eucharift, or afford
him a Burial, unlefs he heard his Confeffion with his own
Ears. He faid he was the Parfon of the Parifh, and that he
was accountable for his own Flock j and that he could not
do it, unlefs he was acquainted with the Secrers of his
Confcience. Mar. And don't you think he was in the right ?
Va. Why indeed they did not think fo, for they all fell upon
him, efpecially Beritardine, and Vincent the Dominican.
Mar. What had they to fay ? Fh. They rattled oif the
Parfon foundly, calling him Afs, and one fitter to be a Paftor
of Swine than Mens Souls I, fays Vincent., am a Batchelor
of Divinity, and qm fhordy to be licenfcd, and take my
Degree of Doftor; and you can (carce read the Colleit,
you are fo far from being fit to dive into the Secrets of a
Man's Confcience : But if you have fach an Itch of Curiofity,
go home and inquire into the Privacies of your Concubine
and Baftards. And a great deal more of fuch Stuff, that I
am afham'd to mention. Mar. And did he fay nothing to all
this } Fh. Nothing, do you fay ? Never was any Man fo
nettled. I, fays he, will make a better Batchelor than you,
of a Bean-ftalkj as for your Mailers Dominic and Francis^
pray where did they ever learn Arifiotle's Philofophy, the
Arguments of Thomas, or the Speculations of Scotus ? Where
did they take their Degree of Batchelors ? You have crept
into a credulous World, a Company of mean W~retches,
tho' fome I mud confefs were devout and learned. You
nefted at firft in Fields and Villages, and thence anon you
tranfplanted your filves into opulent Cities, and none but
the belt Part of them neither would content you. Your
Bufinels lay then only in Places that could not maintain a
Paftor '■, but now, forfooth, none but great Mens Houfes will
ferve your turn. You boaft much of your being Pricfts; but
your Privileges are not worth a Rufli, unlefs in the Abfence
of the Bifliop, Pallor, or his Curate. Not a Man of you
fhall ever come into my Pulpit, I'll affure you, as long as I
am Paftor. It is true, I am no Batchelor ; no more was St.
Marti/:-, and yet he difcharged the Otificc of a Biihop for all
that. If I have not fo much Learning as I iliould, I will
never come a begging to you for it. Do you think the World
is
V
r 397 1
is (o ftupid, as to think the Holinefs of Domhk and Francis
is entail'd upon the Hdbit ? Is it any Bulkiefs of yours, what
I do at my own Houfe ? It is very well known in the
World what you do in your Cells, and how you handle your
holy Virgins. No body is ignorant that you make thofe rich
Mens Floufes you frequent, no better than they fhould be.
For the reft, Marcolphus, you muft excule me, it is too foul
to be told j but in truth, he handled the Reverend Fathers
very fcurvily j and there had been no End of ic, if George
had not held up his Hand, in token he had fomething to
fay, and it was with much ado that the Storm was laid at
laft, tho' but for a little while. Then fays the fick Man,
Peace be among you, I'll confefs my felf over again to you,
Mr. Parfon ; and as for the Charge of tolling the Bell, my
Funeral-vires, my Monument and Burial, they fliall all be:
paid down to you before you go out of the Houfe j I'll take
order that you fhall hav^noCaufe co complain. Mar. Did
the Parfon refufe this fair Propofal .^ Fh. He did not abfo-
lutely refufe it, tut he mutter'd fomething to himfelf about
Confeffionj but he remitted it at laft, and told them, there
v/as no need of troubling the Patient, or the Prieft, with the
fame things over again j but if he had confefs'd to me in
time, faid he, perhaps he would have made his Will upon
better Conditions j but if it be not as, it fhould be, you
muft now look to it. This Equity of the fick Man vexed
the Monks to the Heart, who thought very much that any
Part of the Booty fhould go to the Parfon of the Parifh.
But upon my Interceflion the Matter was compofed j the
Parfon gave the fick Man the Unction and the Sacrament,
received his Dues, and went away. Mar. Well, now cer-
tainly a Calm follow'd this, Storm, did there not? Pb. So
far from it, jthat this Storm was no fooner laid, than aworfe
followed. Mar. Upon what Ground pray? Ph. I'll rdl
you. There were four Orders of Begging-Fryars in the
Houfe already ; and now, in comes a fifth of Crofs-Bearers,
againft v/hich all the other four Orders rife up in a Tumult,
as illegitimate and fpurious, faying. Where did you ever fee
a Waggon with five Wheels ? or with v/hat Face would they
reckon more Orders of Mendicants, then there were Evan-
gelifts? At this Rate ye may even as well call in all the
Beggars to ye, from the Bridges and CroG-ways. Mar. What
Pvcply made the Croft-bearers to this? Ph. They asked
them how the Waggon of the Church went before there were
any Mendicants at all? and fo after diit, v/ben there was bur
one Order, and then again when there were three? As for ths
Number of the Evangelilts, fay they, ic has no more Affinity
vvidx
1 398 ]
\7kh our Orders, than with the Dye, for having on evefry «
Side four Angles. " Pray, Who brought the Auguftines or
Carmelites into the Order ? When did Auftin or Elias go a
begging ? For they make them to be Principals of their
Order. Thefe and a great deal more they thundred out
violently ; but being over-power'd with Numbers of the
four Orders, they could not ftand the Charge, but were forced
to quit the Ground, but threatning them with dreadful things.
Mar. Well, but I hope all was quiet now. Th. Nay, not
ioy for this Confederacy againft the fifth Order, Was come
almoft to Daggers drawing j the Francijcan and Domhiican
would not allow the Auguftines and Carmelites to be true
Mendicants, but Baftards and Suppofititious. This Contention
rofs to that Height, that I was afraid it would have come to
Blows. Mar. And could the fick Man endure all this ? Fh.
They were not in his Bed-chamber now, but in a Court that
joined to it, but fo that he could kear every Word they faidj
for there was no whifpering, believe me, but they very fairly
exercifed their Lungs. Befides, Men, as you know, are
quicker of hearing than ordinary, in Sicknefs. Mar. But
what was the End of this Difpute.^ Fh. Why, the fick Man
fent them word by his Wife, that if they would but hold
their Tongues a little, he would fet all to rights j and there-
fore defired that the Auguftines, and Carmelites fhould go
away for the prefent, and that they fhould be no Lofers by i
it, for they fhould have the fame Portion of Meat fent them
home, that thofe had that ftaid there. He gave Diredtion, that
all the five Orders fhould affift at his Funeral, and that every
one of them fhould have an equal Share of Money ^ but
that they fhould not all be fet (down) at the common
Table, left they fhould fall together by the Ears. Mar. The
Man underftood Oeconomy, I perceive, that had the Skill to
compofe fo many Differences, even upon his Death-bed. Fh.
Phoo j he had been an Officer in the Army for many Years,
where fuch Sort of Mutinies are common among the Soldiers.
Mar, Had he a great Eftate ? Fh. A very great one.
Mar. But ill-gotten perhaps, as is common, by Rapine, Sa-
crilege, and Extortion. Fh. Indeed Officers commonly do
fo, and I will not fwear for him that he was a Jot better
than his Neighbours : But if I don't miftake the Man, he
made his Fortune by his Wit, rather than by down-right
Violence. Mar. After what manner? Fh. He underftood
Arithmetick very well. Mar. And what of that } Fh.
What of that? why, he would reckon 30000 Soldiers when
there were but 7000, and a great many of thofe he never
paid neither. Mar. A very compendious Way of account-
ing!
t m 3
ing ! Vh. Then lis would lengthen out the War, 'and raifi
Contributions monthly, both from Friends and Foes j from
his Enemies, that they might not be plunder'd j and from
his Friends, that they might have Commerce with the
Enemy. Mar. I know the common Way of Soldiers i but
make an End of your Story. Fh. Bernardine and Vincent
ftaid with the fick Man, and the reft had their Provifions
fent them. Mar. Well, and did they agree among them-
felves that ftaid upon Duty ? Fh. Not very well ; they
continually grumbled fomething about the Prerogative of
their Bulls j but they were fain to difTemble the Matter,
that they might go the better on with their Work : Now
the Will is produced, and Covenants enter'd into before
Witnefles, according to what they had agreed upon be-
tween themfelves. Mar. I long to hear what that was.
Th. I'll tell you in brief, for the whole would be a long
Hiftory. He leaves a Widow of thirty eight Years of Age,
a difcreet virtuous Woman ; and two Sons, the one of nine-
teen, and the other fifteen Years of Age ; and two Daugh-
ters, both under Age. He provided by this Teftament, that
his Wife, feeing ftie would not be prevail'd upon to confine
her felf to a Cloifter, fhould put on the Habit of a Be-
gum [i~\ which is a middle Order, between a Laick and a
Religious: And the eldeft Son, becaufe he could not be
prevail'd upon to turn Monk. Mar. There's no catching
old Birds with Chaff! Th. That as foon as his Father's Funeral
was over, he ftiould ride Poft to Rome-^ and there being
made a Prieft before his time, by the Pope's Difpenfation,
he fhould fay Mafs once a Day, for one whole Year, in the
Lateran Church, for his Father's Soul j and creep up tha
holy Steps there upon his Knees every Friday. Mar. And
did he take this Task upon himfelf willingly ? Th. To deal
ingenuoufly with you, as willingly as an Afs takes his Bur-
den. His younger Son was dedicated to St. Fra7im^ his
eldeft Daughter to St. Clare^ and the younger to Catherine
Senenfis. This was all that could be obtain'd j for it was
George's Purpofe, that he might lay the greater Obligation
upon God, to difpofe of the five Survivors into the five
Orders of the Mendicants; and it was very hard prefled
too : But his Wife and his eldeft Son could not be wrought
upon by any Terms, either fair or foul. Mar. Why, this is
a kmd of difinheriting. Pb. The whole Eftate was fo di-
[i] Eeguin. There are a great many of thefe in Flavders, Ticardy,
and Lorrain, and they take their Name from their Head-drefs, which the
French call Be^uin.
vided.
[ 400 ]
. vlded, that th6 Funeral Charges being firft taken out, orle
Twelfth-part of it was to go to his Wife ; one Half of that
for her Maintenance, and the other Half to the Stock of the
Place where Ihe fhould difpofe of herfelf i upon Condition,
that if ihe ihould alter her Mind, the whole fhould go to
that Order. Another Twelfth was to go to the eldefb Son,
who w^s to have fo much Money paid him down upon the
Nail, as would bear the Charges of his Journey, pur chafe
him a Difoenfation, and maintain him at 'Rovie j provided
always, that if he fhould at any time change his Mind, and
refufe to be initiated into holy Orders, his Portion fhould be
divided between the Fraitcifcans and Dovjtnkans : And I
fear that v/ill be the End of it, for he had a ftrange Aver-
£on to that Courfe of Life. Two Twelfth-parts were to go
to the Monaftery that fhould receive his younger Son, and
two more to thofe that fhould entertain his Daughters j but
upon this Condition, that if they Ihould refufe to profefs
themfelves, the Money fhould go intire to the Cloifter. And
then Bernardine was to have one Twelfth, and Vincent
another ; a half Share to the Carthufians^ for the Commu-
nion of the good Works of the whole Order. The remaining
Twelfth and Moiety was to be diftributed among fach private
Poor, as Bernardine and Vincent fhould think worthy of the
Charity. Mar. It would have been more Lawyer-like to
have (aid quos vel quaSy inftead of quos only. Fh. The
Teftaraent was read, and the Stipulation ran in thefe
Words: George Balearicus, doft thou, being alive, and of
found and difpofing Mind and Memory, approve of this
Teftament, which thou madeft long fince according to thy
own Mind ? I approve it. Is this thy laft and unchangeable
Will } It is. Doft thou conftitute me and this Batchelor
Vincent the Executors of this thy laft Will ? I do fo. And
then he was commanded to fubfcribe it. Mar. How could
he write when he v/as dying ? Th. Why, Bernardine guided
his Hand. Mar. What did he fubfcribe ? Th. Whofoever
fhall attempt to violate this Teftament, may he incur the
Difpleafure of St. Francis and St. Dominic. Mar. But
were they not afraid to have an A(Stion Tefiamenti ino-ffi'
cioji [ of a forged Will ] brought againft them .? Ph,
That Adion does not take place in things dedicated to
God; nor will any Man wiUingly go to Law in a Suit
with him. When this was over, the Wife and Children
give the fick Man their Right-hands, and fwear to the
Obfervance of his Diredions. After this they fell to treat-
ing of the Funeral Pomp, and there was a Squabble about
that tooi but it was carried at laft that there fhould be nine
ouc
[ 401 ]
but of every one of the five Orders, in Hotiour of the five
Books of Mofesj and the nine Choirs of Angels •■, every Or-
der to carry its proper Grofs, and fing the Funeral Songs.
To thefe, befides the Kindred, there ihould be thirty
Torch-bearers hired,' and all in Mourning, in memory of the
thirty Pieces of Silver our Saviour was fold for ^ and for Ho-
nour's fake, twelve Mourners to accompany them, as a Num-
ber facred to the Apoftolical Order. That behind the Bier
fhould tbllow George's Horfe, all in Mourning, with his Head
ty'd down to his Knees in fuch a manner, that he might
ifeem to look upon the Ground for his Mafter. That the
Pall fhould be hung about with Efcutcheons j and that the
Body fhould be laid at the Right Hand of the high Altar,
in a Marble Tomb, fome four Foot from the Ground, and
he himfelf lying in Effigy at length on the top of it, cut in
the pureft Marble, all in Armour from Head to Foot. To
his Helmet a Creft, which was the Neck of zwOnocrotaluSy
and a Shield upon his left Arm, charged with three Boars
Heads Or, in a ^'iqIA Argerif, his Sword by his fide, with
a golden Hilt, and a Belt embroidei'd with Gold and Pearl,
and golden Spurs, he being a Knight of the Golden Order.
That there fhould be a Leopard at his Feet, and an Infcrip-
tion on his Tomb worthy of fo great a Man. His Heart
he would have to be buried feparately in St. Francis his
Chapel,; and his Bowels he bequeathed to the Parifh, to
be honourably interr'd in our Lady's Chapel. Mar. This
was a noble Funeral, but a dear one. Now, a Cobler at
Venice fhould have as much Honour done him, and v/ith very
little or no Charge at all ; the Company gives him a hand-
fome Coffin, and they have many times 600 Monks, all in
their Habits, to attend one Corpfe. Th. I have feen it my
felf, and could not but laugh at the Vanity of thofe poor
People. The Fullers and Tanners march in the Van, the
Coblers bring up the Rear, and the Monks march in the
Body i you would have faid it had been a Chimera, if you
"had feen it. And George had this Caution too, that the
Francifcans and Dominicans fhould draw Lots which fhould
go firft at the Funeral, and after them the reft ; that there
might be no quarrelling for Place : the Parfon and Clerk
went in the loweft Place (that is, firft) for the Monks would
not' endure it otherwife. Mar. I find George had Skill in
marfli ailing of a Ceremony, as well as an Army. Vh. And
it was provided, that the Funeral Service, which was to be
performed by the Parifti-Prieft, ffiould be perform'd with a
Concert of Mufick, for the greater Honour of the Deceafed.
While thefe and fuch like things were doing, the Patient
D d was
[ 402 ]
wis feiz'd with a Convulfion, which was a certain Token
that he was near his End : fo that they were now come to
the laff: A6t. Mar. Why, is not all done yet ? P^. Now
the Pope's Bull is to be read, wherein he is promifed a full
Pardon of all his Sins, and an Exemption from the Fear of
Purgatory \ and with a Juflification over and above of his
whole Eftate. Mar. What, of an Eftate gotten by Rapine ?
Th. Gotten by the Law of Arms, and Fortune of War.
But one Vhil't^ a Civilian, his Wife's Brother, happen'd to
be by at the reading of the Bull, and took Notice of one
Paflage that was not as it fhould be, and raifed a Scruple
upon it, of its not being authentick. Mar. It might very
well have been let pafs at this time, and no Notice taken of
it, if there had been any Error, and the Sick never the
worfe for it. Vh. I am of your Mind, and I'll aflure you it
fo wrought upon George^ that it had like to have caft him
into Defpair : and in this Cafe Vincent fhew'd himfelf a Man
indeed ; he \yAGeor^e be fatisfied, for that he had an Autho-
rity to corred or fupply any Error or Omiffion that might be
in the Bull : So that, fays he, if this Bull fliould deceive you,
this Soul of mine fliall ftand engag'd for thine, that thine
fhall go to Heaven, or mine be damn'd. Mar. But will
God accept of this way of changing Souls? Or, if |?e
does, is the Pawn of Vincent's Soul a fufficient Security for
George's ? What if Vincenfs Soul fliould go to the Devil,
whether he changes it or no ? Fb. I only tell you matter of
Fadt : It is certain that Vincent effedied this by it, that the
fick Man was much comforted. By-and-by the Covenants
are read, by which the whole Society promife to transfer to
George the Benefits of the Works which were done by all
the four Orders, and alfo a Fifth, that of the Carthufians.
Mar. I fhould be afraid that fuch a Weight would fink me
to Hell, if I were to carry it. Fh. I fpeak of their good
Works only j for they bear down a Soul that is about to fly
to Heaven, no more than Feathers do a Bird. Mar. But.
who will they bequeath their evil Works to then ? Fh.To
the German Soldiers of Fortune. Mar. By what Right?
Th. ByGofpel Right j for, to him that has-, fJjaJl be given.
And then was read over hov/ many Mafles and Pfalms were
to accompany the Soul of the Deceafcd, and there was a
vaft Number of them. After this, his Confeffion was
repeated, and they gave him their Benedidlion. Mar. And
fo he dy'd? Fh. Not ye^: They laid a Mat upon the
Ground, roU'd up at one End in the Form of a Pillow. Mar.
Well, and what's to be done now? Fh. They ftrew'd
Aflies upon it, but very thin, and there they laid the fick
. Man's
[403]
Man's Body j' and then they confecrated a 'Fra7icifcans Coat
with Prayers and Holy-Water, and that they laid over him,
and a Cowl under his Head (for there was no putting ic on
then) and his Pardon and the Covenants with it. Mar.
This is a new way of dying. ¥h. But they affirm that the
Devil has no Power over tliofe that die in this manner .; for
fo they fay St. Martin and St. Teraticis-, and others died. Mar.
But their holy Lives were correfpondent to their Deaths.
But prithee, what folio w'd.^ Vh. They then prefented the
fick Man with a Crucifix, and a Wax Candle : Upon the
holding out the Crucifix, fays the fick Man, I ufcd to be
fate in War under the Protedion of my own Buckler ; but
now I will oppofe this Buckler to my Enemy : and having
kifs'd it, laid it at his left Side. And as to the holy Taper j
I was, faid he^ ever held to be a good Pikeman in the
Field -J and now I v/ill brandifh this Lance againft the Ene-
my of Souls. Mar. Spoken hke a Man of W'ar ! Vh. Thcfe
were the laft Words he fpake, for Death prefently feized
his Tongue, and he breath'd his laft. Bcrr.erdim kept
clofe to him in his Extremity, on his right Hand, and Vtn^
cent on his leftj and they had both of them their Pipes
open : One Ihew'd him the Image of St. Tra^scis-, the other
that of St. Domhnc ; while the reft up and down in the
Chamber were mumbling over certain Pfalms to a moft me-
lancholy Tune; Bemardine bawling in his right Ear, and
Vincent in his left. Mar. What was it they bawfd ? Vh,
'Bemardine fpake to this Purpofe: George BalearicuSj if
thou approveft of all that is here done, lean thy Head to-
ward thy right Shoulder. And fo he did. Vincent on
the other fide faid, George-, fear not, .yoU' have Su Fran-
cis and Sx.. Dominic for your Defenders, therefore be of
good Courage : Think on what a ^reat Number of Merits
are beftow'd upon thee, of the Validity of thy Pardon ;
and remember, that I have engaged, my Soul for thine, if
there be any Danger. If you underftand all this, and ap-
prove of it, lean your Head upon your left Shoulder,
And fo he did. And then they ciy'd out as loud as before.
If thou art fenfible of all this, fqueeie my Hand j then he
fqueez'd his Hand : fo' that, what with turning of his Head,
and fquecT-ing of the Hand, there were almoft three Hours
fpent. And when George began to yawn, Bemardine ftood
up and pronounced the Abfolution, but could not go thro'
with it, before George's Soul was out of "his Body. This was
about Midnight, and in the Morning they went about the A-
natomy. Mar. And pray what did they find out of order
in the Body? Pb, Well remember'd, fori bad like to have
D d 2 \ forget
^ C 404 1
forgot it. There was a piece of a Bullet that ftuck to the
Diaphragm. Mar. How came that ? Vh. His Wife faid
he had been wounded with a Musket-fhoti and from thence
the Phyficians conjedrured, that fome part of the melted
Lead remained in his Body. By-and-by they put the man^
■gled Corple (after a fort) into a Francifcans Habit i and af-
ter Dinner they buried him with Pomp, as it had been or-
dered. Mar. I never heard of more Buflle about a Man's
dying, or of a more pompous Funeral i but I fuppofe you
would not have this Siory made publick, Th. Why not ?
Mar. Left you fhould provoke a Nefl: of Hornets. Fh.
There is no Danger j for if what I relate be done well, it is \
convenient the VVorld fliould know it ^ but if it be ill done,
all good Men will thank me for difcovering it j and they
themfelves being feized with Shame for what they have
done, will do fo no more. Befides, it may poflibly preferve
the Simple from falling into the like Miftakes ; for fome
learned and pious Men have frequently complained to me,
that the Superflirion and Wickednefs of fome few, brings a
Scandal upon the v/hole Order. Mar. This is well and
bravely faid. But I would fain know what became of Cor-
nelius. Pb. Why truly, he died as he lived, without trou-
bling any body. He had an anniverfary Fever, which took
him every Year at fuch a certain time ^ but being now worfe
than ordinary, cither by reafon of Age (for he was above
lixty Years old) or ibme other Caufe, finding that his fatal
Day was drawing on, he went to Church upon a Sunday,
four Days before he died, confefs'd to the Parifli-Prieft, heard
divine Service and^ the Sermon, and having received the Sa-
crament v/ent home. Mar. Had he no Phyficians? Ph.
Only one, who was as good in Morals as he was in his
Profeffion j his Name is James Caflrutius. Mar. I know
him, as honelt a Man as any in the World. Ph. He told
him, he ihould be ready to ferve him in any thing he could
as a Friend ^ but that in his Opinion his Bufinefs lay rather
with God than the Dodor. Cjrfielius received this Anfwer
as chearfuily, as if he had afTurcd him of his Recovery.
Wherefore, altho' he liad been always very charitable accor-
ding to his Power, yet he then beftow'd upon the Needy all
that he could pofTibly fpare from the Neceflitiesofhis Wife
and Children, not upon fuch as take a feeming Pride in a
fort cf Poverty, that are every where to be met withal, but
upon thofe good Men, that oppofe a laborious, Induftry to an
innocent Poverty. I dcfired him thar he would betake himfelf
to his Bed, and lend for a Minifirer to him, rather than fatigue
his weakBody. He reply'd, that it had been always his Defire
rather
[ 401 ]
rather to make his Friends eafy where he could, bV doing good
Offices, than to make himfelf troublefom to them by receive-
iiig j and that he was now willing to die as he had liv'd. Nor
would he take to his Bed till the very laft Day, and Part of
the laft Night, of his Life. In the Interim* he fupported his
weak Body with a Stick, or elfe fat in a Chair, but very rarely
went into the naked Bed, but lay down in his Cloaths, his
Head being raifed. And in this time he was either giving
Orders for the Relief of the Poor, efpecially thofe of his
Acquaintance and Neighbours, or reading fomething of the
Scriptures, proper to ftrengthen his Faith in God, or that
fhew his Love to Mankind. And when he was fo tired
that he could not read himfelf, he heard fome Friend read
to himj and would very frequently, and with wonderful
Affeiftion, exhort his Family to mutual Love and Concord,
and the Exercife of true Piety ; comforting his Friends, who
were foUicitous for his Death, with great Tendernefs j and
gave it often in Charge to his Family, to take care to fee all
his Debts paid. Mar. Had he not made a Will ? Fh. Yes.,
a long time before ; he had taken care to do that when he
was in perfed Health ; for he was ufed to fay, that what a
Man did at his laft Gafp was rather a Dotage than a Tefta-
ment. Mar. Had he given any thing to Monafteries, or
poor People? P/?. No, not aCrofsj I have, fays he, already
in my Life-time, given according to my Ability, and now
as I leave the PofTeffion of what I have to my Faijiily, I
leave them the difpofmg of it too, arid I truft that they will
employ it better than I have done. Mar. Did he fend, for
no holy Men, as George did ? Fh. Not a Man : There was
no body about him but his own Family and two intimate
Friends. Mar. I admire what he meant by that. Th. He
faid, he was not willing to trouble more People when he
went out of the World, than he did when he came into it.
Mar. I want to hear this Story out. Fh. You fhall hear it
prefently. Thurfday came, and finding himfelf extremely
weak, he kept his Bed. The Parifh-Prieft being then calfd,
gave him the Extreme Unftion, and again the Sacrament ,
but he made no ConfefTion, for he faid he had no Scruple
upon his Mind. The Parfon then began to talk to him about
his Burial, with what Pomp, and in what Place he would be
buried. Bury me, fays he, as you would bury the meaneft
Chriftian; nor do I concern my felf v^here you lay this
worthlefs Body of mine, it will be found all one at the Day
of Judgment wherefoever you lay it ^ and as to the Pomp of
my Funeral, I matter it not. When he came to mention
the ringing of Bells, and faying Maffes, (tricenary and anni-.
D d 3 Ycrfary}
[ 40(5 ]
verfary) Pardons and purchafing a Communion of Merits;
he reply'd. My good Paftor, I fhall find my felf never the
worfe if no Bell be rung at all ; If 3'ou will afford me but
one funeral Ofnce, it will abundantly content me^ but if
there be any thiflg elfe, that the publick Cuftom of the
Church has made neceirary, and that can't well be omitted
without Scandal to the Weak, I leave that to your Pleafure.
Nor am I am at all defiroas to buy any Man's Prayers or rob
any Man of his Merits ; there is Merit enough in Chrift,
and to fpare j and I truft that I my felf fliall be the better
for the Prayers and Merits of the whole Church, if I be but
a living Member of it. My whole Hope is in thefe two Affu-
rances ; the one is, that the Lord Jefus, the chief Shepherd,
hath taken all my Sins upon him, nailing them to his Crofs ;
the other is, that which Chrift himfelf hath figned and
fealed with his own holy Blood, which gives us Affurance
of eternal Salvation, if we placeall our Truft in him. Far
be it from me, to infift upon being furnifhed with Merits and
Pardons, and provoke my God to enter into Judgement with
his Servant, in whofe Sight no Flefh living fliall be juftified j
becaufe his Mercy is boundlefs and unfpeakable, to it I ap-
peal from his Juftice. TheParfon hearing this, went away;
and Cornelius wiih great Joy and Chearfulnefs (as one tranf-
ported with the Hope of a better Life) caufed fome Texts
to be read out of the holy Scriptures, that confirm the Hope
oi the^efurredion, and fet bdbre him the Rewards of Im-
inortality; as that out oi Ifaiahj concerning the Death of
Hezekiahj together with the Hymn ; and then the fifteenth
Chapter of the firfl Epiftle of Paul to the Corinthians ; the
Death of ha-zarus out of John ; but efpecially the Hiftory
of Chriffc's PafTion, out of the Gofpels. But O with what
AfFedion did he take in all thefe Scriptures, fighingatfome
PalTages, folding his Hands, as in Thankfulnefs, at others ;
one while rapt and overjoy'd at fome PalTages, and another
while fending up fhort Ejaculations! After Dinner, having
taken a little Reft, he order'd the twelfth Chapter of St.
John to be read, to the end of the Story. Here you would
have faid the Man was transfigured and poffeffed with a
new Spirit. When it grevV toward Evening, he called for
his Wife and Children, and raifing himfelf as well as he
could, he thus befpake them: My dear Wife, the fame
God that once joined us together, doth now part us, but on-
ly in our Bodies, and that too for a fliort time. That Care,
Kindnefs, and Piety, that thou haft hitherto ufed to divide
betwixt me, and the tender Pledges of our mutual Love, do
thou now transfer wholly to them. Tiiink thou canft do no-
thing
I
[ 407 ]
thing more acceptable either to God or to me, than to edu-
cate, cherifli, and inftrud thofe whom God has given us the
Fruit of our conjugal Relation, that they may be found
worthy of Chrift. Double therefore thy Piety upon them, and
account upon my Share too, as tranflated unto thee. If thou
flialt do this, as I truft thou wilt, they will not be accounted
Orphans ; and if ever thou fliouldft marry again — At which
Word his Wife burfl: out into Tears, and was about to for-
fwear ever to think of marrying again j but Cornelius inter-
pofed : My dearcll Sifter in Chrift, if the Lord Jefus ftiall
vouchfafe to thee Refolution and Strength of Spirit, be not
wanting to the heavenly Gift, for it will be more commo-
dious, as well for thy lelf as the Children. But if the In-
firmity of the Flefh ftiall carry thee another way, know that
my Death has indeed freed thee from the Bonds^of Wed-
lock, but not from that Obligation, which in both our Names
thou oweft in common to the Care of our Children. As to
Marriage itfelf, make ufe of the Freedom that God has
given thee,- only let me intreat and admonifh thee of this
one thing, to make choice of a Husband of ftich a Dilpofition,
and difcharge thy felf fo towards him, that he, either by his
ownGoodnefs, or for thy good Carriage, may be land to our
Children. Therefore have a care of tying thy felf up by any
Vow i keep thy felf free to God, and to our Children, and
bring them up in all Points religioufly, and take care that
they don't fix upon any Courfe of Life, till by Age and Ex-^
perience they ihall come to ynderftand what is fitteft for
them. Then turning to his Children, he exhorted them to
the Study of Piety, Obedience to their Mother, and mutual
Love and Concord among themfelves. And having done,
he kifs'd his Wife and them, pray'd for them, and making
the Sign of the Crofs, recommended them to the Mercy of
Chrift. And then looking round upon all about him, By to-
morrow Morning, fajj^ he, the Lord who renew'd this Morn-
ing to me, will gracioufly pleafe, out of his infinite Mercy,
to call this poor Soul of mine out of the Sepulchre of- my
Body, and out of the Darknefs of this Mortality, into his
heavenly Light. I will not have you fatigue your felves in
your tender Age with unprofitable Watching; and as for the
reft, let them take their Reft by turns ; one is enough to fit
up with me, and read to me. Having pafs'd the Night,
about four o'Clock in the Morning, all the Family being
prefent, he caufed that Pfalm to be read, which our Saviour
praying recited upon the Crofs. And when that was done,
he called for a Taper and a Crofs, and taking the Taper in
his Handj he faid, The Lord is my U^ht and Salvation^
P d, 4 ' ^^bom
[ 4o8 ]
ijjhQm Jhall I fear ? And then Idffing the CroCs, he faid
The Lord is the Defe?tder of my Life., of auhom Jball I be
afraid ? And by-and-by, laying his Hands upon his Bread
in a praying Pofture, with his Eyes lift up to Heaven, he
faid, Lord Jefus, receive my Spirit ; and immediately he
clofed his Eyes, as if he were only going to flcep, and
with a gentle Breathe, delivered up his Spirit. You would
have thought he had only been in a Slumber, and had not
expired. Mar. I never heard of a lefs painful Death in my
Life. Ph. His Life was as calm as his Death. Thefe two
Men were both of them my Friends, and perhaps I am not
fo good a Judge which of them dy'd moft like a Chriftian ^
but you that are unbiafTed, may perhaps make a better
Judgment. Mar, I will think of it, and give you my
Opinion feme time or other at leifure.
^^)il^^^^'#^^^^^^-^^'
ECHO.
The Argument.
^ Difcourfe betvjeen a young Man and an "Echo., concerning
the choice of Studies.^ and chufmg the befi nray of Liveli-
hood ^ the Echo facetioufly anfwering the young Mans
Interrogatorief.
The YOUNG MAN -and the ECHO.
To. TT Have a mind to ask your Advice about a few things,
X if you are at leifure. Ec. I am at leifure. Ta. And
if I, a young Man, fhall be welcome to you. Ec. You
fhall be welcome. To. And can you tell me true concerning
things to come, Echo ? Ec. I can. To. And do you under-
iland Greek too ? What Novelty is this ? Ec. I do. To.
What kind of Studies do you think thofe of the Mufes to
be ? Ec. Divine ones. To. Do you think then, that thofe
Authors that conduce to Learning ought to be ftudied ? Ec.
Do thou ftudy them. To. What is then in their Minds, that
fpeak contemptibly of thefe Studies ? Ec. The Thoughts of
a Swipe. To. But I wifti the Lovers of th^fe were as fludiou*
of
[ 4op ]
of Piety.* Ec. I wifh they were fo. To. Now-ardays the
Wickednefs of fome makes aH hated. ■ Ec. It does fo. To.
And many lay the Sins of Man on the Back of Learning.
Ec. Ay, Afles. To. Why, but they commonly feem not to
be of the meaneft Sort. Ec. They are vile Perfons. To.
What do you think they do, who fpend their time in a
fophiftical kind of Learning ? Perhaps they f^in Cobwebs ?
Ec. They do fo. To. And they weave and unweave Pene-
lope's Web. Ec. They do weave it. To. What Courfe of
Life do you advife me to follow ? Ec A fafe one. To,
Will it prove fortunate if I iliall marry ? Ec. Do it late.
To. But what if it fliall happen to be my Lot to marry an
unchalt, or extravagant Wife ? Ec. You muft bear it. To.
Why, but it is worfe than Death itfelf to live with fuch.
Ec. It is fo. To. Does Fortune fo domineer in human
Affairs? Ec. Yes, fhe only. To. Perhaps a Perfon had
better enter himfelf into the Life of a Monk, than that of
Marriage. Ec. That binds one. To. What Remedy is there
left, when any one is bound by that Knot that cannot be
unloofed ? Ec. Melancholy. To. Well^ but it is a miferable
Life for Men to live alone. Ec. It is entirely fo. To. What
fort of Men do you account the Monks of thefe times to be ?
Ec. A Trouble. To. What then makes fome efteem them
as Half-gods? Ec. Fear. To. What do moft hufit after
who fue for a Benefice ? Ec. Idlenels. To. Does a Prieft gee
nothing elfe? £c. Yes, Gain To. What good thing do they
get that obtain Bilhopricks ? Ec. Labours. To. But none
Eve more in Idlenefs. Ec. I know it. To. What things will
be able to make them think, and underftand what a ^reat
Burden they have upon them ? Ec. Underftanding. To.
Therefore the Priefthood is an excellent thin^, if a Man
behave himfelf as he ought to do in it. Ec. it makes him
happy. To. What Advantage fhall I have, if I go into their
Court, who excel in princely Dignity ? Ec. Mifery. To.
But I fee a great many that are wont to promife themfelves
great Happinefs from thence. Ec. They are Blockheads. To.
But in the mean time, while they go clothed in their Sill<:s,
the common People look upon them as brave Fellows. Ec.
They are not worth a Fig. To. Why then, you fpeak of
Men that are golden without, apd wooden within, if any
body were but toinfped them narrowly ? Ec. Not fo good.
To. Why then, thofe Men have but little Excellency in
them, that being array'd in Silks, we worfliip as Gods ?
Ec. Mifchief. To. And perhaps, you will put no great
Value upon military Men ? Ec. A Farthing. T0. But your
Aftrologers that tell Fortunes by the Starsp promife great
, V things.
C 410 ]
things. Ec. They are Fables. To. But GrammaVians take
a great deal of Pains. Ec. To no Purpofe. To. I believe
hungry greedy Lawyers don't pleafe you. Ec. They are
Wolves. To. What fort of a Man fhall I be, if I turn a
Handicraft-man ? Ec. The Scum of the People. To. What
then, do good nor bad Arts procure one nothing elfe ? Ec.
A Maintenance. To. Shall I be happy, if I fhall perfevere
in good Learning? Ec. You fhall. To. But what will
make me pious? Ec. Age. To. I have fpent my time
this ten Years in Cicero. Ec. O you Afs ! To. How comes
k into your Mind to call me an Afs ? Ec. By the thing it
felf. To. Perhaps, you mean that I fhould not fo apply my
felf to him, as to leave off others ? Ec. I do fay fo. To.
Why then, does not he pleafe you, that fatigues him felf all
his Days, only for this Purpofe, that he may become a
Ckeromax at laft ? Ec. He is a Madman. To. What is left
for them to do that are old, whofe Age is not feafonable for
the learning thefe things ? Ec. The Plough-tail. To. I
believe you would be m.ore eloquent, if you were at a
^eater Diftance. Ec. I fhould be fo. To. I don't like
Words of two Syllables. Ec. Go your way. To. I began
firft, and I fee I can't hinder your having the laft Word.
Ec. Let me have it. To. Do you now think I am fufficiently
inftrufted to perform thofe things well, which fhall happen
in Life ? Ec. Yes. To. Well then,' if you'd have me go
away, bid me be gone. Ec. Be gone.
NOTE. If appears hy Erafmus'j having fo frequently
made ufe of Greek Words in the Echo'i' Anfiuer^ that
tthere is a confiderahle Difficulty in this way of Writing^
nor will the Englifh Tongue fo well bear it as the Latin,
in that it will not allow that Tranfpofttion of Words y
that the Latin Tongue will. It being therefore 'very
difficulty if 720t impojjibley ta make the two lafl Syllables
anfwer by way of Echo, I have contented my felf Viith
0 bare Tranjlation without it.
;i O A 1C«
[ 411 ]
n O A T A A T I A, or, Sthe Unequal Faaft,
The Argument.
The unequal 'Entertainment teaches Civility in entertaining
Guejis. How the Table Jhould be furnipedj that all the
Guefis may be pleafed, altho' of different Palates^ Man-
ner s-^ and Humours. That the placing of the Company
may conduce much to th» making the Entertainment ehear-
ful. That the ordinariefi Difbes pouid make the firji
Courfej and the moji delicate the lafi. That Drink is to
he given to none^ but when they call for it. Variety of
Stories-, fuited to the Fancy of each Per/on, caufe Merri-
ment. Old Men^ Married Women-, Sailors, and Mer-
chants^ delight to hear Stories of their own Occupations and
uiSiioTts. All melancholy things-, which may caufe Sadnefsy
ought to be ^avoided : And likewife, fo muft Drunkennefs^
which often occafons Eighfmgs, Quarrels, and Contentiojes.
The Method of turning off" the Difcourfe when Perfons are
angry, &c. No one's Grief ought to be called to mi^td.
Salutatio7ts are not to be often repeated. That every one
fljould falute each other. That no Me7ition fhould he made
of the Goodnefs, Majiagement, or Price of the Provifion.
A flender Provifion is to he excujed mode fly.
SPUD^US, APITIUS.
5/. Q O H O5 Soho, Apitius. At. I don't hear ye. Sp.-
1^ Soho, I fay, Apitius. Apl What troublefom Fellow
is this? Sp. I have a Matter of Confequence to tell you of.
Ap. And I am going about a Matter of Confequencej and
in great have too. Sp. Whither, prithee ? Ap. Why, to
Supper. Sp. That was it I wanted to talk with you about.
Ap. I have not time now to meddle with Talkers or Doers,
left I lofe my Labour. Sp. You fhall lofa no time, I'll go
along with you. Ap. Well, teU me what 'tis quickly. Sp\
\ am bufy in contriving how to make a Feaft, fo as to pleafe
'I ' all
[ 41^1
all, and difpleafe none of my Guefts j and knowing you to
be the principal Artift in this Scheme, I apply my felf to
you as to an Oracle. Ap. Well, take this for an Anfwer,
and, according to antient Ufage, in Verfe,
If none you luould difpleafe, then none invite.
Sp. But 'tis a publick Entertainment ; I am under a Necef-
fity of having a great many Guefts. Ap. To be fare, the
more you invite, the more you will difpleafe : What Play
was fo well written, or fo well aded, as to pleafe the whole
Theatre? Sp. But come, Darling of the God of Ban-
quets, affift me with your Advice in this Affair, and I will
account you an Oracle for time to come. Ap. Take this in
the firft place. Don't attempt to do that which is impoffible
-to be done. Sp. What's that ? Ap. To be a Mafter of a
Feaft, and give Satisfa.-^ion to all your Guefts, when there
is a great Variety of Palates. Sp. Well then, that I may
difpleafe but a few ? Ap. Call but a few. Sp. But that
can't be. Ap. Then invite thofe that are Equals, and of
agreeable Humours. Sp. I am not at liberty to do that
neither ; I can't avoid inviting a great many? and of different
Humours : nor are they all of the fame Speech or Nation.
Ap. You talk of a Bealam, rather than a Banquet. Here
will neceffarily arife fuch Confufion, as the Helreivs relate
to have happened at the Building of Babel, that when one
asks for cold Water, the other will bring him hot. Sp. But
prithee help me out at a dead Lift, you fiiall find I'll be
both mindful of, and grateful for your good Office. Ap.
Well, come then, feeing you are not at liberty to pick and
chule your Guefts, I'll give you Advice in this difficult Point.
It fignifies no fmall Matter, as to the Mirth of the Enter-
tainment, what Places any of them fit in. Sp. That's very
right. Ap. But to take away all Occafion of Uneafinefs, lee
them caft Lots for their Places. Sp. That's well advis'd.
Ap. Let not your Difhes proceed gradually from the upper
to the lower End of the Table, (b as to make the Letter 2,
or rather in a fer pen tine Order, or to be chang'd reciprocally
hither and thither, as the Myrtle in old times ufed to be
handed about at Banquets. Sp. How then ? Ap. To every
four Guefts fet four Diflies, fo that the fourth may be the
middlemoft, as Boys upon three Nuts fet a Fourth ; in
every one oi thefe let there be a different fort of Victuals,
that every one may help himfelf to what he likes. Sp.
Well, I like that very well j but how often muft I change
the Dilhes ? Ap. How many Parts are there in a theatrical
Orations'
[ 413 3
Oration? Sp. Five, I think, ^p, t^ow many Ads are
there in a Play ? Sp. I have read in Horace, that they ought
not to exceed five. Ap. Well then, fo many different
Courfes you muft have. Let the firft Courfe be Soop, and
the laft a Defert of Sweetmeats. Sp. What Order of the
Courfes do you approve of ? jip. The fame that Pyrrhus
did in his Army. Sp. What fay you ? Ap. As in an Oration,
foata Feaft, the Preface, or firft Courfes fhouldnot be very
delicate j and again, the laft Courfe fhould rather excel in
Variety, than Daintinefs. So Tyrrhush Difcipline confifted
in three Particulars, that on each fide there fhould be feme-
thing excellent, and in the middle, that which was more
ordinary. By this Method, it will be fo ordered, that you
will neither appear to be fparing, nor prodigal by reafon of
a cloying abundance. Sp. The Eating-part is well enough
contriv'di now tell me what is to be done as to drinking ?
Ap. Don't you give the Cup to any body , leave that to your
Servants, to ask every dody what Sort of Wine he likes,
and to fill every one the Wine he drinks readily, at the very
firft Call or Nod. In this there will be a twofold Conveniency,
they will drink both more fparingly and more merrily j not
only becaufe every now and then there would otherwife be
a different fort of Wine given them, but alfo becaufe no body
will drink but when he is dry. Sp. Upon my Word, this
is very good Advice. But then how will they aU be made
merry? -^^. That's partly in your Power. 5/. How is that ?
Ap. You know the old Proverb, A hearty Welcome is the
beft Cheer. Sp. How is that ? Ap. Entertain them cour-
teoufly, fpeak to them with a chearful Countenance, order-
ing your Speech according to each Perfon's Age and Humour.
Sp. I'll come nearer to you, that I may hear the better. Ap.
You underftand Languages? Sp. Yes, moft Languages.
Ap. You muft ever and anon fpeak to every one in his own
Tongue ; and that the Entertainment may be the more di-
verting by a Variety of Stories, intermix fuch Matters as
every one will remember with' Pleafure, and no body will
be uneafy to hear. Sp. What fort of Matters mean you ?
Ap. The peculiar Differences of Difpofitions, which you your
felf are better vers'd in ; I will only touch upon fome Heads.
Old Men take a Pleafure in relating thofe things that are out
of the Memory of many Perfons, and are Admirers of thofe
Times, in which they were in their Prime. It's a pleafant
tlftig to a married Woman to have the Memory of that time
refreflied, when fhe was courted by her Sweethearts. Ma-
riners that have been in divers and far diftant Countries,
take a Pleafure to tell of thofe things that they have feen,
and
[ 414 ]
dnd other People admire at ; and according to tiie Proverb,
the Remembrance of Dangers, when they are over, is very
pleafant, if they are fuch as have nothing opprobious in
them, as in the Army, in Travels, in the Dangers at Sea :
And in the laft place, every one loves to talk of his own Call-
ing, efpecially in that part, that he excels in. Thefe are
fome general Heads j as to particular AflFe6tions it is not pof-
fible to defcribe them '■, but for Example fake, one is am-
bitious of Honour, another would be accounted learned, an-
other loves to be taken for a rich Man ; one is full of Talk,
another is fparing of his Speech ^ fome will be furly, others
on the other hand affable ; fome don't care to be thought
old when they are fo, and fome would fain be thought older
than they are, afFeding to be admir'd for carrying their Age
well. Some Women pleafe themfelves mightily in being
thought handfome, and fome love to be flattered. Thefe
Difpofitions being known, it will be no difficult matter fo to
intermix Speeches, as to be pleafing to every one, and to
avoid thofe things that caufe Uneafinefs. Sp. Upon my
Troth, you are excellently skill'd in the Art of ordering an
Entertainment. Ap. Phoo ! If I had Ipent as much time,
and taken as much Pains in the Study of the Law, Phyfick,
or Divinity, as I have fpent upon this Art, J had long before
nowcomm.enc'dDodtorofthemall. .S^. I am of your mind.
Ap. But hark ye, that you may not miftake, you. muft be
fure to take care, that your Stories be not long-winded ones,
and that they don't turn upon Drunkennefs j for as there is
nothing better than Wine, drank with Moderation, fo on, the
other hand, there is nothing worfe,. if you drink too much.
It is the fame in Stories. Sp. You fay right. But what
Remedy have you for this } Ap. When you perceive any.,
difpos'd to be quarrelfom, take an Opportunity to break off
abruptly from what you were faying, and talk of fomething
elfe. I take it to be unnecefTary to caution you againft
bringing any one's Affliftion to his, Mind, during the time
of the Entertainment. Tiato is of opinicn, thai Banquets
will cure fome Diftempers, the Wine driving away Sorrow,
and making Perfons forget what caus'd Uneafinefs to them.
But you ought to be caution'd of this, not to falute the
Guefts too often j yet I would have you walk about fome-
times, and fpeak kindly firil to one, and then to another;
for a Mailer of a Feaft ought to ad a moveable part in the
Play. But then again, there is nothing more uncivil tlton
to be continually talking of the forts of Provifion, the
manner of dreffing it, and what it coft you. It is the fame
thing as to the Wine. But you flaould rather modeftly under-
value
[415]
value the Provifion j for if you undervalue it too much, it
will be much the fame as if you were oftentatious concern-
ing if. It is fufficient to fay twice, or at the moffc three
times. Much Good ma/f do you j and tho' my Entertainment
is but homely, your Welcome is hearty. Sometimes you
may break a Jeft, but fuch a one that has no Teeth. It
will alfo be proper tq befpeak every one, now and then, in
his own Tongue, but in a few Words. But it tiow comes into
my Mind, to fpeak what I Ihould have faid at the Begin-
ning. Sp. What is it ? ^p. If you han't a mind to place
the Guefts by Lot, take care to chufe three out of the
Company, that are of a diverting Humour, and apt to talk,
place one at the upper End of the Table, another at the
lower End, and a third in the Middle, that they may keep
the reft from being either lilent or melancholy. And if you
perceive the Company grow either mute or noify, and in-
clinable to fall out.— ^p. This is very comifton witlv our
Countrymen j but what muft be done then ? u4p. Then
take the Courfe that I have frequently experienc'd to fuc-
ceed. Sp. I want to hear it. Ap. Bring in a Couple of
Buffoons or Jefters, who by their Geftures may exprefs fome
Argument without fpeaking a Word. Sp. But why without
fpeaking ? ^p. That the Guefts maybe all equally diverted;
or, if they do fpeak, let them fpeak in a Language that none
of them underftands. By fpeaking by Geftures they will all
underftand alike. Sp. . I can't very well tell what you mean
by an Argument. y4p. There are a Thoufand ; as fuppofe,
a Wife fighting with the Husband for the Breeches, or any
other fuch comical Tranfadlion in low Life. And, as to
Dancing, the more ridiculous it is, the more diverting it
will be. Thefe ought not to be above half Fools; for, if
they be downright Ideots, they will, before they are aware,
fooliflily blab out what may give Offence. Sp. As you have
given me good Advice, fo I wifti that the Deity Cotk us m^y
always befriend ye. ./4p. I will conclude with this, or
rather repeat what I faid at firft ; Don't be too thoughthil
to pleafe every body, not only in this Affair, but in any
other Circumftance of Life, and that will be the way to
pleafe them the fooner; for it is a 'good Maxim in Life,
Too much of one thing is good for nofhingo
Of
[ 4i<J ]
Of Things and wokds.
The Argument.
This Colloquy concer7itng Things and Words, expofes the pre^
foflerous Judgments of fame People , "jjho are more ambitious
of Navies, than they are of the Things themfelves j to be
efieemed, thayi to deferve Efieem. In aiming at Things,
it is better to be and to have; in avoiding Things, it is
better to be thought to have them arid be vjithout them.
It is the vjorfi of Frauds to cheat a Friend.
Bf ATUS and BONIFACfi.
'Be. £^^ O D blefs you, Boniface. Bo. And God blels you
VJC heartily, Beatus. But I wifli we were both of us
anfwerable to our Names, you rich, and I handfom. Be.
Why then, do you account it fo fmall a matter to have a great
Name? Bo. Indeed I make very fmall account of the
Name, unlefs there be the Thing too. Be. But moll: Men
are of another Mind. Bo. Perhaps they may be Mortals,
but I don't take 'em to be Men. Be. Nay, Good-man, they
are Men, unlefs you think there are now-a-days Camels and
AiTes in the Shape of Men. Be. I fliould fooner be of that
Mind, than believe that they can be Men, who had rather
have the Name than the Thing it feE Be. In fome Sort of
Things, I confefs, that many had rather have the Thing,
than the Name^ but in many things it is quite the con-
trary. Bo. I don't very well take you in. Be. We have an
Example of it in our felves, you are call'd Bojziface, and you
have what you are call'd ; but if you were to be depriv'd
of either of them, had you rather have an ugly Face, or
be call'd Cornelius ? Bo. Why, indeed, I had rather be
call'd Therfites, than have q, Face as ugly as the Devil i
whether I have a handfom one now or not, I f an't tell. Be.
Then again, if I was rich, and muft either part with my
Wealth or my Name, I had rather be call'd Irus thaili be de-
friv'd of my Eftate. Bo. I grant what you fay to be true ; and
am of Opinion it is the common Temper of thofe that enjoy
Health, and other corporal Enjoyments. Bo. It is probable.
Be.
[ 417 ]
Sp. But how many may we fee that had rather have the
Name of being Learned and Pious, than to be Learned and
Pious ? Bo. I know a great many of this fort of People-
Be. Well then, is not the Name more efteem'd among us
than the Thing it felf ? Bo. So it feems to be. Be. Isfow,
if we had a good Logician, who could properly define
what a King, a Bilhop, a Magiftrate, and a Philolbpher was,
it is very likely we ihould find fome among them, who' are
more for the Name than the Thing it felf Bo. He is really
a King who aims at the Good of his People, and not his
own ; governing them by Law and Juftice : And he a
Biihop, who watches carefully over the Lord's Flock : And
he is a Magiftrate, who lincerely ftudies the Good of the
PubUck. And a Philofopher is one, who negleding the
Goods of Fortune, ftudies only to get the Endowments of
the Mind. Be. By thcfe you may fee how many Examples
of this kind I could produce. Bo. Why truly, a great many.
Be. Will you deny all thefe to be Men ? Bo. I am afraid
wc fhall fooner lofe the Name of Men our felves. Be. But
if Man is a rational Animal, how contrary is it to Reafon,
that in the Conveniencies, rather than the real Goods of the
Body, and in external things, which Fortune gives and takes
away at her Pleafure j we had rather have the Thing it felf
than the Name ; and in the real Goods of the Mind, we
put more Value upon the Name, than the Thing it felf.
Bo. It is an abfurd way of judging, if a Man did but con-
lider it ferioufly. Be. And the Reafon is quite the fame in
thofe things, that are on the contrary Side. Bo. I expecSt
what youVe going to fay. Be. We may pafs the fame
Judgment as to the Names of thofe things that are to be
avoided, as has been given as to thofe that are to be de-
lired. Bo. That's plain. Be. For to be a Tyrrant is more
to be abhorr'd, than to have the Namej and if a Bifhop
be a bad Man, the Scripture calls him a Thief, and a
Robber : Thefe Names are. not to be detefted by us, fo
much as the Things themfelves. Be. In truth I am of your
Mind. Bo. Do you infer the fame as to the reft ? Bo. I
underftand you perfectly well. Be. Don't all Fools hate to
be call'd Fools ? Bo. Yes indeed, and more than other
Folks. Be. Would not he be a Fool that JJjou/d fijh ivith
a Golden Hook., and prefer Glafs before Jewels? that fliould
put more Value upon his Horfes, than his Wife and Chil-
dren ? Bo. He would be a greater Fool than Ben of the
Minoriei. Be. Are not they fuch Fools that Uft themfdves
ff jr Soldiers, and for the fake of a poor Pay expofe Body and
Soul to danger ? who make it their Study to fcrape up
E e Riches,
[ 4i8 ]
ilicbes, when their Minds are deftitute of all good Science ?
who make their Cloaths and Koufes fine, but let their Minds
lie negledtcd and flovenly ? who are very careful to preferve
their t5odies in Health, and take no Care of their Minds, that
are fick of mortal Difeafes ? and in the laft Place, who for
the fake of enjoying the fleeting; Pleafures of this Life, deierve
etern.'.l Torments? Bo. Reafon it felf obliges a Man to
confer., that they are worfe than Fools. Be. Bur tho' every
Place is full of fuch Fools as thefe, you can fcarce find
one that can bear to be calFd a Fool, tho' they have no
Averfion to bein^ Fools. Bo. It is really fo. Be. Come on,
.--"you know every body hates to be call'd a Lyar or a Thief.
Bo. They are very hateful Names, and not without Reafon.
Be. But for all that, tho' to debauch another Man's Wife is
a greater Sin than Theft, fome glory in the Name of Adul-
terers j and if you were to call them Thieves, they would
draw their Swords upon you. Bo. This is a common thing
with a great many. Be. And again, tho' many give rhem-
felves up to Whoring and Drinking, and do it publickly ;
yet if you fhould call them Whoremafters, they would be
highly offended at it. Bo. Thefe glory in the Thing, and
t hate the Name that belongs to it. Be. There is fcarce any j
Name that founds harfher in our Ears, than the Name of a 1
Lyar. Bo. I know fome that would run a Man thro', that
"* fhould affront them by giving them the Lye. Be. But I
wi(h they did as much abhor the Pradice. Have you
never had it happen to you, that he that promised to pay
you what you lent him, upon a certain Day, fail'd you ? Bo.
Ay, very often j and tho' he had fworn to it too, and not
only once, but over and over. Be. But it may be they
were not able to pay. Bo. Nay, they were able enough,
but they thought it more to their Advantage to let it alone.
Be. And is not this lying ? Bo. Ay, downright. Be. And
did you dare to fay to this Debtor, Why have you told me
fo many Lyes ? Bo. No, not except I had amind to fight
him too. Be. Well, and in like manner do not Mafons,
Smiths, Goldfmiths, and Taylors promife things upon a
certain Day ; and don't perform it, altho' it is of great Con-
cern to you ? Bo. Ay, and are not at all afham'd of it : And
you may add to thefe, fuch Perfons as promife to do you a
Kindnefs. Be. Ay, you might give a thoufand Inilances
more, not one of which would bear to have the Lye given
them. Bo. The World abounds with thefe Lyes. Be. So
in like manner no body v/ill bear to be call'd Thief, when
at the fame time they have not the fame Abhorrence of
ftealing. Bo. I would have you teil me plainly what Difference
there
[ 4ip ]
there is between him that fteals a thing out of your Efcri-
toircj and him that forfwears what you have depolited with
him. Be. No Difference but this, that he's the more wicked
Man that robs him who repofes a Confidence in him. Bo.
But how few are there that do reftore that which has been
put into their Hands > or, if they do, reftore the whole ?
Be. I believe but very few. But yet not one of them
will bear to be call'd a Thief, tho' he has no Averfion to
the thing it felf. Bo. This is very common. Be. Now do
but reckon up, with me, what is commonly done in the
Management of the Eftates of Orphans, as to Wills and
Legacies ^ how much fticks to the Fingers of the Managers ?
Bo. Very often the whole. Be. They love Thieving, but \
hate the Name of it. Bo. 'Tis true. Be. What do CoUec- \
tors and Coiners of publick Money do, who either coin it
with too great an Allay, or too light ? Or they who raife and
fall the Exchange of Money for private Ends ? Tho' we
don't very well underftand the Reafon of it, yet we may fpeak
of what we experience daily. He that borrows or runs in Debt
withDefign never to pay, altho' he be able, differs very little
from a Tnief. Bo. He may probably be faid to be more
wary, but not more honeft. Be. But notwithftanding there
is fo great a Number, yet none of them can endure the
Name of a Thief. Bo. God alone knows the Heart i and for
that Reafon, among Men, thofe that run themfelves over
Head and Ears in Debt, are not call'd Thieves. Be. What
fignifies what Men call them, if God accounts them Thieves ?
Surely everyone knows his own Mind. And befides, he that
owes a great deal of Money, and yet difhoneftly lavifhes
away what Money he getsj and aftgr he has broke, and
cheated his Creditors in one City, runs into another, hunting
about for People to cheat ; the ofbier he does fo, does not
he declare the more plainly what he is at Heart ? Bo. Ay>
too plainly j but they oftentimes glofs over the Matter. Be.
How ? Bo. They pretend that this is a common Praiflice
with great Men, and Kings, to owe a great deal of Money,
and to a great many Perfons ; and therefore they that are
of this Difpofition more refemble great Men. Be. What
Ufe would they make' of that ? Bo. It is admirable,
what great Liberty they would have allow'd to Knights,
Be. But by what Right, or by what Law } Bo. Juft the
fame that the Lord of the Manor fhall claim to himfelf,
whatfoever is call} a-fnore from a Shipwreck, altho' there be
a right Owner of it ; or by which other Perfons would keep
to their own Ufe, what they take from a Highway-man
after he has been apprehended. Be. Robbers themfelves
E e a might
[ 4^0 ]
might make fuch Laws. Bo. Ay, and they would too, if
they kneW'^hbw to maintain them; and they would have
enough to plead in excufe of them, if they did but denounce
War before they committed the Robbery. Be. Who gave
Knights this Privilege above the Commons ? Bo. The Law
of Arms j for thus they are train'd up for War, that they
may be more expert at plundv^ring the Enemy. Be. I be-
lieve it was after this Manner that Fyrrhus train'd his Sol-
diers up to War. Bo. No, but the 'Lacedemonians did. Be^
A Mifchief take them, and their whole Army too. But
how came this Title to have fo great a Prerogative ? Bo.
Some have it by Defcent, fome purchafe it with Money,
and fome take it to themfelves. Be. And may any boay
have it that will? Bo. Yes, he may, if his Manners be but
anfwerable to theirs. Be. What are they ? Bo. Never to
be guilty of doing a good A£lion, to go fine, wear a Dia-
mond Ring, whore iioutly, game continually, fpend his
Life in Drinking and Diverfion, fpeak of nothing that's
mean, be continually cracking of Caftles, Duels, BattlCj',
and every thing that looks great; They take the Liberty of
quarrelling with whom they have a mind, altho* they han't
a Foot of Land of their own to let their Feet upon. Be.
Such Knights as thefe deferve to be mounted upon the
Wooden Horfe : But there are a great many fuch Knights
in Gelderland.
CitAkON.
[4^' ]
C H A KO N.
The Argument.
Charon detefis Chrijliavs fgbting one ivith another. An
evil Genius brings Newi to Charon, that all the Earth
ivas up in Arrns for War : Offa, the Goddefs Fame in
Homer, the Monks atid Jefuits, are the Incendiaries.
CHARON, Genius ALASTOR.
Ch. TT 7 Hither are you going fo brisk, and in fuch hafte,
W Alaflor ? Al. O Charon-, you come in the Nick
of Time, I was coming to you. Ch. Well, what News do
you bring ? Al. I bring a Meflage to you and Froferpiney
that you will be glad to hear. Ch. Out with what you have
brought,- and lighten your Burden. Al. The Fnfies have
been no lefi diligent, than they have been fuccefsful, in
gaining their Point : there is not a Foot of Ground upon
Earth, that they have not infeded with their hellifli Cala-
mities, Seditions, Wars, Robberies, and Plagues j fo that
they are grown quite bald, having fhed their Snakes, and
having quite fpit all their Venom, they ramble about in
fearch after whatever they can find of Vipers and Afps j be-
ing become as fmooth as an Egg, not having fo much as a
Tingle Hair upon their Heads, and not one Drop of Venom
more in their Breaits. Do you get your Boat and your
Oars ready ; you will have fuch a vaft Multitude of Ghofts
come to you anon, that Fm afraid you won't be able to carry
them all over your felf. Ch. I could have told you that.
Al. How came you to' know it ? Ch. Offa [i] brought me
that News above two Days ago. Al. Nothing is more
fwift than that Goddefs. But what makes you loitering
here, having left your, Boat ? Ch, My Bufincfs brought me
hither j I came hither to provide my felf wich a good ftrong
Three-Oar'd Boat : for my Boat is fo rotten and leaky with
Age, that it will not carry fuch a Burden, if Ojfa told me
[j] The Goddefi /•<»»«?. . /
E e 3 -true
[ 42i ]
rue. But, indeed, what need was there of Ojpi} for the
Thing lliews it fdf, for I have fufFered Shipwreck already.
Al. Indeed you are dropping dry, I fancied you were juft
come out of a Bath. Ch. No, I fwam out of the Stygian
Lake. Al. Wliere did you leave the Ghofts ? Ch. They
are fwimming among the Frogs. Al. But what was it
that OJJa told you ? Ch. That the three Monarchs of the
World Were bent upon one another's Deftrudion with a mor-
tal Hatred, and that there was no part of Chrifiendom free
from the Rage of War ; for thefe three have drawn all the
reft in to be engag'd in the War with them. They are all
fo haughty, that not one of them will in the leaft fubmit to
the other : Nor are the Da?ies^ the Pc/cr, the Scots., nor the
Turks at quiet, but are preparing to make dreadful Havock.
The Plague rages every where, in Spaing Britain-, Italy,
and Trance ; and more man all, there is a new Fire fprung
out of the Variety of Opinions, which has fo corrupted the
Minds of all Men, that there is no fuch thing as fmcere
Friendfhip any where j But Brother is at Enmity with Bro-
ther-, and Husband and Wife cannot agree. And it is to be
hop'd, that this Diftrafbion will be a glorious Deftruftionof
Maitkind, if thefe Controverfies, that are now managed by
the Tongue and the Pen, come once to be decided by Arms.
Al. All that Fame has told you is very true ; for I myfelf,
having been a conftant Companion of the Furies j have with
thefe Eyes feen more than all this, and tha" they never at any
time have approv'd themfelves more worthy of their Name,
than now. Ch. But there is danger, left fome Good Spi-
rit fhould ftart up, and of a fudden exhort them to Peace :
And Mens Minds are variable, for I have heard, that
among the Living there is one Polygraphus, who is conti-
nually, by his Writing, inveighing againft Wars, and ex-
horting to Peace. Al. Ay, ay, but he has a long time been
talking to the Deaf. He once wrote a fort of Hue and
Cry after Peace, that was banifh'd or driven away ; and af-
ter that, an Epitaph upon Peace defunB. But then, ori
the other hand, there are others that advance our Caufe no
lefe than the Furies do themfelves. Ch. Who are they?
Al. They are a certain fort of Animals in black and white
Veftments, Afh-colour'd Coats, and various other Dreffes,
that are always hovering about the Courts of Princes, and are
continually inftilling into their Ears the Love of V/ar, and
exhorting the Nobility and commiOn People to it, haranguing
them in their Sermons, that it is a juft, holy and religious
War. And that which would make you ftand in admiration
at the Confidence of thefe Men, is the Cry of both Parties.
In
C 4^3 ]
In France they preach it: up, that God is on the Trench
Side, and they can never be overcome, that have God for
' their Protedor. In E;igland and Spain the Cry is, the War
is not the King's, but God's ,• therefore, if they do but fight
like Men, they depend upon getting the Victory ; and if any
one fhould chance to fail in the Batde, he will not die,
but fly diredly up into Heaven, Arms and all. Ch. And is
Credit given to all this? Al. What can't a well-diiTemblcd
Religion do? v/hea to this there is added Youth, Unex-
perien cednefs. Ambition, a natural Animofity, and a Mind
propenfe to any thing that offers it felf. It is an eafy Matter
to impofe upon fuch ^ it is an eafy Matter to overthrow a
Waggon, that was inclining to fall before. Ch. I would do
thefe Animals a good Turn with all my Heart. Al. Prepare
a good Treat j you can do nothing that will be more accep-
table to them. Ch. What, of Mallows, and Lupines, and
Leeks ? for you know we have no other Provifion in our
Territories. Al. No, but of Partridges, and Capons, and
Pheafants, if you would have them look upon you as a .
good Caterer. Ch. But what is it that moves thefe People,
to be fo hot for War ? What will they get by it ? Al.
Fecaufe they get more by thofe that die, than thofe that live.
There are laft Wills and Teflaments, Funeral Obfequies,
Bulls, and a great many other Articles of no defpicable
Profit. And in the laft Place, they had rather live in a
Camp, than in their Cells. War breeds a great many
Bifhops, who were not thought good for any thing in a time
of Peace. Ch. Well, they underftand their Bufinefs. AL
But what oGcafion have you for a new Boat ? Ch. None at
all, if I had a mind to be wreck'd again in the Stygian Lake-
Al. How came that about ? becaufe you had too large a
Company ? Ch. Yes. Al. But you carry Shadows, not
Bodies. Ch. Let them be Water-Spiders, yet there may be
enough of them to over-load a Boat ; and then you know
my Boat is but a fhadowy Boat neither. Al. But I remem-
ber once upon a time, when you had a great Company, fo
many that your Boat would not hold them, I havefeen three
tlioufand hanging upon your Stem, and you were not fen-
fible of any Weight at all. Ch. I confefs there are fuch Sorts
of Ghofts i thofe are fuch as pafs flowly out of the Body,
being reduced to little or nothing with Confumptions, and
Hedick-Fevers. But as for thofe that are torn of a fudden
out of grofs Bodies, they bring a great deal of corpulent
Subftance along with them j fuch as are fent hither by Apo-
plexies, Quinfeys, Peftilences^ and efpecially by War. Al,
1 don't think the French or Spaniards bring much Weight
E e 4 along
C 4^4 ]
along with them. Ch. Much lefs than the reft ; but for all
that, their Ghofts are not altogether fo light as Feathers
neither. But as for the E?i-glijJjmen and Gervians that feed
well, they come- fometimes in fuch Cafe, that I was lately
in danger of going to the Bottom in carrying only ten j and
unlefs I had thrown fome of my Lading over-board, I had
been loft, Boat, Paffengers, and Boat-hire, all together. Al.
You were in great Danger then indeed. Ch. But what do
you think I muft do, when fo many fat Lords, Heftors, and
Bullies, {hall come to us ? Al. As for thofe that die in a
juft War, I fuppofe none of them will come to you i for
they fay, they fly bolt upright into Heaven. Ch. I can't tell
where they fly toj but this I am fure of, as often as there is
a War, there come fo many Wounded and Cripples to me,
that I admire that there fhould be one Soul left above
Ground ^ and they come ovcr-charg'd, not only with Sur-
feits and Paunch-Bellies, but with Bulls, Benefices, and a
great many other things. Al. But they don't bring thefe
things along with them, but come naked to you. Ch. Tme \
but at their firft coming, they bring the Dreams of all thefe
things along with them. A.I. Are Dreams fo heavy then ?
Ch. They load my Boat j load it, did I fay ? nay, they have
funk it before now. And, in the laft Place, do you think
fo many Halfpence don't weigh any thing ? Al. Yes, I be-
lieve they do, if they bring Brais ones. Ch. Therefore I am
refolv'd to look out for a VeflTel, that fhall be fit for my
Cargo. Al. You're a happy Fellow. Ch. Wherein } Al.
Becaufe you'll get an Eftate in a trice. Ch. What, out of a
Multitude of Ghofts ? Al. Yes, indeed. Ch. Ay, if they
^id^ but bring their Wealth along with them. But now
they fit in my Boat, bewailing thcmfelves for the Kingdoms,
and Dignities, and Abbacies, and the innumerable Talents
of Gold they have left behind them, and bring me nothing
but a poor Halfpenny : vSo that all I have been fc raping to-
gether for thefe Three rhoufand Years, will go for the Pur-
chafe of a new Boat. Al. They that exped Gain, muft be
at fome Charge. C/^.But the People in the World have
better Trading, I hear j for, if Fortune favour them, they
can get an Eftate in three Years time. Al. Ay, and Ibme-
timcs turn Bankrupts too j tho' your Gain is lefs, it is more
certain. Ch. I can't tell how certain it is, if any Deity ftiould
Hart up, and make Peace among the Princes, all this goodly
Expeiftation of mine is knock'd on the Head at once. Al.
As to that Matter, Fll take upon me to be your Security,
fo that you may fet your Heart at reft. You have no Rea«
|c« to fear a Peac& for thefe ten Years : The Pope is the
Qwly
[ 4^5 ]
only Man, that perfuades them to come to an Agreement
among themfelvesj but he had as good keep his Breath to
cool his Porridge. The Cities murmur at the Load of Ca-
lamities they lie under j and fome there are, I can't tell who,
that whifper it about, that it is an "unreafonable thing, that
the whole World fhould be turned uplide down, for the
private Piques and Ambition of two or three Perfons. But
for all this, take my Word for it, let thefe Attempts be as
promiling as they will. But what Occafion had you to come
into this World to get a Boat ? han't we Workmen enough
among our felves ? We have Vulcan-^ have we not ? Ch.
Ay, right, if I wanted a Boat of Brafs. Al. Or, you may
fend for a Workman for a fmall Matter. Ch. I might do
that, but I want Materials. Al. What fay you ? Are there
no Woods in this Country ? Ch. All the Woods in the 'Ely-
fian Fields are deftroy'd. Al. In doing what } Ch. In burn-
ing Hereticks Ghofts, fo that of late, for Fuel we have been
forc'd to dig for Coals in the Bowels of the Earth. Al. What
could not Ghoils be punifh'd at a Icfs Charge than that?
Ch. Rhadamanthus (the Judge) would have it fo. Al. If it
be fo, when you have got a Boat, where will you get Oars >
Ch. It is my Bufinefs to fteer, let the Ghofts row themfelve^
if they have a mind to get over. Al. But fome of them"
never learned to row. Ch. I have no Refpcft for Perfons,
Kings and Cardinals row with me,- every one takes his
Turn, as much as the pooreflj Peafant, whether they have
learned to row or not. Al. Well, do you fee and get a
Boat as cheap as you can, I won't detain you any longer,
I'll away to Hell with my good News : But, foho, foho^
Charon. Ch. What's the Matter ? Al. Make hafte, and gee
back as foon as you can, left you be fmothered in the Crowd.
Nay, you'll find at leaft Two hundred thoufand upon the
Bank already, befides thofe that are paddling in the Lake.
Ch. I'll make what hafte I can ^ and do you tell them I -fliaU "
\>c tliere prefently.
The
[4^^
^he A^emlly of Gtammarians,
The Argument.
]j! this Colloquy a certain Cartbufian is ridicurdj a mightf
Pretender to the Greek Tongue j and a 'very lear^/ed Man in
■ his own Ofinio7tj who gave bis Book a Greek Title, calling
thofe Anticomaritas, which he Jhould rather haz-e call'd
Antimarians, or Antidicomarians fi]- The whole Club
of Grammarians difpute about this Word-, and trump up
a great many Etyjnologies of it. At lafi they come to
this Refolutiony to call the Author ef that Word, Archi-
morita.
ALBINUS, BERTULPHUS, CANTHELUS, DIPHI-
' LUS, EUMENIUS, FABULLUS, GADITANUS.
\^l. IS. S there any body here that underftands Arithmctick ?
. JB, Be. For what ? Al. To call up exadiy how many
Grammarians there are of us. Be. That may be done with-
out a Counting-table, we may count upon our Fingers;
I count you upon my Thumb, my felf upon my fore Finger,
Canthelus upon my middle Finger, Diphilus upon my Ring-
Finger, and Eumenius upon my little Finger : and now I go
to my left Hand ■, there I count FahuUus upon my Thumb,
and Gaditanus on my fore Finger j fo that, unlefs I am out
in my Account, wc are feven of us. But to what Purpofe is
it for us to know that ? Al. Becaufe, as I have heard, the
Number Seven makes up a compleat Council. Ber. What
makes you talk of a Council ? Al. There is a Matter of
Moment that has pu'z2led me a long time, and not me alone,
but a great many other Men of no mean Learning j I will
propofe it, that the Queftion may be decided by the Autho-
rity of this Ailembly. Can. Sure it muft be fome knotty
[i"l cAntidicomarito!, Oppofers of the Worfhip and Honour of the
Viigin Mary.
Subje(5t,
[ 4^7 ]
Subjed, that you can't decide it yourfelf, Albinus ; or that
k iTiould puzxle you, that are of fo penetrating a Judgment.
Therefore we defire to know what this difficult matter is.
I fpeak in the Name of all the reft. Al. V/eli then, do you
all r^e very attentive, applying both your Ears, and your
Minds j Two Heads are better than one. Is there anyone
of you all that can explain what is the Meaning of this
Word Antkoniarita ? Be. That's the eafieft thing in the
world, for it hgnifies a kind of a Beet^ which the Antients
caird a Water-Beet^ having a knotty wreathed Stalk, very in-
fipid, but of a very ftinking Smell, if you touch it ; fo that
it may vie with the Bean-cod Tree. Ca. A Natatile Beet,
do you fay ? Nay, rather a Cacatile Beaft. Whoever heard
of, or ever read the Name of a fwimming Beet? Be. Yes,
Mammotre&m (as he is corruptly calFd) v/hich fhould be
i^xov.ounc'A Mavi7notbreptosy as rho* you fhould fay his Grand-
mother's Darling, has made this as plain as the Nofe in a
Mans Face. Al. What fort of a Title is that? Be. This is
to give you to underftand, that there is nothing in the Book
but Darling things, becaufe Mamma's, i. e. Grandmothers,
are wont to be more fond of their Grandchildren, than their
Mothers themfelves are of their own Children. Al. You
talk of a darling Work indeed. I happen'd lately to dip.
into this Book, I e'en burft my Sides with laughing. Ca
Where did you get that Book ? it is very fcarce. Be. Being
at Dinner at Bruges^ Livinius, the Abbot of Ba'vo, carried
me into his private Library, which the old Gentleman had
furnifh'd with fcarce Books at a vail Expence, being defirous
to leave fome Monument of himfelf to Pofterity. There
was not a Book, but what was a Manufcript, and upon Vel-
lum, too, and illuminated with various Pittures, and boUnd
in Velvet, and embofs'd with Gold ? and befides, there fee-
ing a vaft number of them, they made a very ftately {hews,
Al. What Books were they? Be. They were all excellent.
Books -J there was the Catholkon., Brachylogus, and Ovid
expounded allegorically, and abundance of others; and a-
mong them I found this facetious Book Mammothreptus i
And among the reft of the Curiofities I found alfo this nata-
tile Beet. Be. I'll relate to you what I read^ as for the
Truth of it, let the Author be anfwerable for that. Foras-
much, fays he, as it grows in wet, ftinking Places, and
thrives no where fb well as in Mud, or a Dunghll, laving
your Reverence, Sir- ■ 'Al. Therefore it ftinlcs, does it >
Be. Ay, worfe than a Turd. Al. Is this Herb good for any
thing ? Be. Yes, it is accounted a great Delicacy. Al.
Perhaps by jSwine, or Afles, or Cyprian Cows. Be. Nay,
by
C 4^8 1
by Men themfelves, and very fine-mouth'd ones too. There
is a People call'd the Feligni, who make their Dinners of
an extraordinary Length ^ and the parting Glafs they call a
Jiefuvipta in their Lauguage, as we call it a Dcllert or
Kickilaws. Al. Fine Dellerts indeed ! Be. The Law of
the Entertainnaent is, that the Entertainer fliall have the
liberty of having what he will brought to the Table j and
it is not allow'd that the Guefts iliould refufe any thing, but
muft take all well. Al. What if he fhould have Hen-
bane, or twice-boiled Coleworts fet before them ? Be. Let
it be v^at it will, they mufl eat it, and not fpeak a Word
againft it ? but when they come home, they are at liberty to
vomit it up again, if they pleafe. And in their Entertain-
ments, one Diila is commonly this Water-rBeet or Antico-
wanta^ for it matters not which Name you call it by, the
Thing IS, the fame. They jmix a great deal of Oak-bark,
an4 a good Quantity of Garlick with it. And this is the
Compofition of the Tanfey. Al. Who made this barbarous
Law.? Be. Cuftom, the moft mighty of Tyrants. Al. You
tell me a Story of a tragical Conclufion, which has fuch a
naufeous Ending. Be. I have given my Solution of the
Queftion, not inipofing it upon any body, nor to prevent any
body, who has a mind to offer theirs. Ca. Lhave found out
that the Antients had a Fifh that they call'd Anticomarita.
Be. What Author is that in } Ca. I can produce the Book,
but I can't tell the Author's Name; it is written in French
Words, but in the Hehreiv Charader. Be. What's the
Shape of this Fiih call'd Anticomarita ? Ca. The Belly is
white, but all over every where eHe it has black Scales.
Be. I fancy you have a mind, of this Fifh to make a Cjnic
with a Cloak; what Taile has it.^ Ca. It has the naftieft
Tafte in the World ; and befides that, it is infediious too.
It breeds in old Lakes, and fometipies in Houfes of Office.
It is a good-for-nothing muddy Fifh ,■ if you put but a Bit of
it into your Mouth, it caufes a certain tough Phlegm, that
you can hardly bring up by taking a Vomit. It is very com-
mon in the Country call'd Celtithrace j they efteem it as a
DeHcacy, and at the fame time account it a more deteftable
Crime than Murder, to tafle a Bit of Flefli. Al A very
wretched Country with their Anticomarita I Ca. This is
what I have to fay ; but I would not have any body to be
determined by my Opinion. I>i. What Occalion have we
to fetch the Explanation of this Word from Ma7m/iothreptus\
or Hebrerjj Writings, when the very Etymology of the Word
ifliews pjainly, that Antisomarita lignifies Damfels unhap-
pily marriedj that is to fay, to old Husbands? "And it is no
r A^9 ]
new thlii<y for Writers to write co inilead of ^tfO j f, q-> and k
are co^rmte Letters. Eu. What D//>^//«x has rriention'd
carries %raething of Weight with it, if we wei-e fure the
Word was a Latin one. I take it to be a Greek Word, and
a Compound of thefe three, aVti, which fignifies againft ;
x«'A«t> which fignifies a Town; and U^it^avy which fignifies to
tattle Uke a Woman : and fo by ftriking out e by the Figure
Synalcepba it is Antkomarita, one who by clow^fh prating
makes every body deaf. Fa. My Eup. cuius has made it
out very elaborately; but in my Opinion the Word is com-
pofed of as many Words as it has Syllables j for iv Hands for
am, ri for 7i\f.vy, Ka for kJ/ia, fx* for f/aAct, and p'w for
puTtffaj (for it is an Error to write it with an /) and t*
for Tct\«< ; and out of thefe is form'd this Sentence, ^ mad
ivreuhed Perfon puUivg the Hairs out of a rotten Hide ^l.
Indeed fuch Food as a Water-Beet, was very fit for Tuch a
Workman as Bertulfhus was fpeaking of juft now. Be. Ihat
is as much as to fay an Anticomarita for an Anticomarita.
Ga You have all fpoken very learnedly to the Matter; butl
am of Opinion, that a difobedient Wife is call'd Anticomaritci
by the Figure Syncope., for Antidicomarita^ becaufe ihe always
croffes h?r Husband. Al If we aUow of fuch Tropes, we
m\o\iX. of a Turd make a Bird, and of a Cook a Guckoe.
B^f But Albinus.v^ho is the chief of this AiTembly, has not
given his Opinion yet. Al I have, indeed, nothing of my
own to ofFeri but, however, I fnall not thmk much to
acquaint you with what I lately learn'd from my Landlord,
who was a verv taUcative Man; he ufed to change his DiP
courfe oftner than a Nightingale does her Note. He afferted
it was a Cbaldee Word, compounded of three Words: that
amoncT the Chaldeans, Anti fignified Crofs-grain d, or Brain-
fick: °and Comer, a Rock; and It a, belonging to a Shoe-
maker. Be. Who ever faid that a Rock had Brains.? AL
There is no Abfurdity in that, if you do but change the
Gender. Ga. This Synod mal<es the old Proverb good.
So many Men, fo viany Minds. But what Conclufion are we
come to? The Opinions may be fumm'd up, but can't be
divided ; fo that the Major Part may carry it againft the
Minor. AJ. Well then, let the better overcome the worfe.
Ga But we muft have another Affembly to do that; for
every Man's own Geefe ara Swans. Al If that Proverb
held aood, we Hiould not have fo many Adulteries as we
have.'' But I can advife you to an expeditious Method : Let
us caft Lots vvhofe Opinion of all of them fhall be allow d
to be determinative. Ca. That Lot will fall upon your felt.
Have not I fpoken theTruUi? Al I approve belt of the
[
43° J
firft, and of the lafl. Ca. If I may fpeak for the reft, we
all agree. ^!. Well then, let it go for authentick. Ca.
Let it be fo. Al. If any body fhall diffent, what fhall be
the Penalty? Ca. Let him be fet down in great Letters,
A HEREtiCK JN GRAMMAR. Al. I will add very
fortunately one thing, that in my Opinion ought not to be
omitted : Having receiv'd it from a Syrian Phyiician, I
will communicate it to my Friends. Be. What is it } Al.
If you pound a Water-Beet, an Oak-Gail, and fome Shoe-
makers Ink in a Mortar, and fprinkle with it fix Ounces of
Copper, and make it into a Poultice, it will be a prefent
Remedy for the Mange and Meafles in Hogs. Be. But hark
ye, Albivus^ you that have help'd us all to this Job of the
Anticomarita-, what Author did you read it in ? Al. I'll tell
you, but in your Ear, and but one of you. Be. Well, FU
receive it, but upon this Condition, that I may whifper it in
the Ear of one Perfon too. Al. But one repeated often
enough will make a Thoiifand. Be. You fay right, when
you have once a Couple, it is not in your Power to ftop it
from going further. Al. That which a few know, may be
kept a Secret j but that which a great many know cannot j
three makes a Multitude. Be. Right, he that has three Wives
at the fame time, may be faid to have many ^ but he that
has but three Hairs upon his Head, or three Teeth in his
Mouth, may be faid to have a few or none. Al. Mind,
Sophifter. Be. What ftrange Story is this ! This is as abfurd
as if the Greeks-, who carry'd fo many Fleets to conquer Tro/,
fhould not be able to call it by its Name, but infbead of Troy
fhould fay Sutrium. Al. But this is a Rabbin that is lately
come down from Heaven, who, unlefs he had, like a prefent
Deity, lent his Afiiftance in fuftaining human Affairs, we had
long ere now been at a Lofs to find either Men, Religion,
Philofophy, or Letters. Be. In troth he ought to be one of
Mor'tas Noblemen of the firft Rank, and deferves for the
future to be call'd Arch'morita. (an Arch-Fool) with hiS
Antkomarites.
A r A M O S
[43« ]
Atamos rAMOs, oTy ^he Unequal Marriage^
The Argument.
The unequal Marriage expofes to Vieiv the Folly of "People in-
comniojiyivho in their Efpou fats, chiefly regard the Greatnefs
of the Fortune^ and difregard the Difeafes of the Huf- .
handj tho" they are worfe than, the I^eprofy it felf. The
Hefcription of a deformed Man. That the Cruelty of Parents
I hi matching their Daughters-) is ivorfe than that of Me-
Zencius, of which Virgil writes in his Tenth Book of
iEneids. He defcribes the Vices of a bad Husband j that
this is not marryiyzg a Man-, hut a dead Carcafs. In get-
ting Dogs-) Calves-) and Horfes, they take care to have one
firong Beafi copulate nvith another, good ones with thofe that
are like themfelves j nor wo^it fuifer a difeas'd o?ie to leap
a fou7td one. That the Commonwealth fuflains a great
Detriment by thefe fooliflo and jinhappy Marriages.
PETRONIUS and GABRIEL.
Fet. \T THence is our Gabriel come, with this four Look?
VV whatj is he come out of Trophoriius's Cave ? Ga.
No, I have been at a Wedding. Pet. L never faw a Look
in my Life that had lefs of the Air of a Wedding in it ;, for
thofe that have been at Weddings, ufe to look cheerfully and
airily for a whole Week after, and old Men themfelves to
look younger by ten Years. What Wedding is it that you
have been at ? I believe at the Wedding of Death and
the Cobler. Ga. Not fb, but of a young Gentleman with
a Lady of Sixteen, who has all the Accomplifhments that
you can wifh for, whether Beauty, good Humour, Family,
or Fortune j in fhort, a Wife fit for Jupiter him felf. Pet.
Phoo ! what, fo young a Girl to fuch an old Fellow as he ?
Ga. Kings don't grow old. Pet. But what makes you look
fo melancholy then ? It may be you envy the Happinefs of
the Bridegroom, who has rival'd you. Ga. Pfliaw, there's
nothing of that in the Matter. Pet. Well then^ has any
thing
[ 43i1 .
thing happened like what is related of the Lapttha's Feaft ?
Ga. No, not fo neither. Fet. What then, had you not
Wine enough ? Ga. Yes, and too much too. Tet. Had
you no I'ipers } Ga. Yes, and Fiddlers too, and Harpers,
and Trumpeters, and Bagpipers. Fet. What was the Matter
then ? Was not Hymen at the Wedding } Ga. They call'd
loudly for him with all this Mulick, but to no Purpofe.
Fet. Were not the Graces there neither ? Ga. Not a Soul
of them, nor Bridemaid Juno, nor beautiful Venus j nor
Jupiter Gamelius. Fet. By my Troth, you tell me a Story
of a dull Wedding indeed, an ungodly one, or rather an
unmarried Marriage. Ga. You would have faid fo indeed>
if you had feen it. .Fet. Had you no Dancing at it } Ga.
No, but we had wretched Limping. Fet. What, had you no
lucky Godfllip at all to exhilarate the Wedding ? Ga. No,
not one there but a Goddefs, that the Greeks call Ffora.
Fet. Why, you give me an Accounr of a fcabby Wedding
indeed. Ga. Nay, a cankered, and a pockey one. Fet.
But, prithee. Friend Gabriel-, tell me. What makes the Re-
membrance of it fetch Tears from your Eyes } Ga. Ah !
dear Fetronius-y it is enough to fetch Tears from a Flint-
ftone. Fet. I believe fo, if a Flint-ftone had been prefent,
and feen it. But prithee. What extraordinary Mifchief is
this ? Don't hide it from me, nor keep my Expeitation
any longer in fufpenfe. Ga. Do you know Lampridius Eu-
bulus .? Fet. Yes j there is not a better nor. happier Man
in the City. Ga. Well, and do you know his Daughter
IphigeTiia too ? Fet. You have mention'd the very Flower
of the Age. Ga. She is fo; but, do you know who Ihe's
married to ? Fet. I Hiall know when you have told me.
Ga. She is married to Fompomus Blenvus. Fet. What, to
that Hedor, that us'd to talk Folks to Death in cracking of
his bullying Tricks ? Ga. To the very Man. Fet. He has
been for a long time very noted in this Town, for two
Things chiefly, /. c. Lying, and the Mange, which has no
proper Name to it, tho' indeed it has a great many. Ga.
A very proud Diftemper, that won't ftrike Sail to the Le-
profy, the Elephantine Leprofy, Tetters, the Gout', or Ring-
worm, if there was to be an Engagement between them.
Pet. So the Sons of Efcu/apius tell us. Ga. What need is
there, Fetronius, for me to defcribe to you a Damfel that
j'ou are very well acquainted with ? altho' her Drefs was a
great Addition to her native Beauty. My Fetronius-,^ you
would have taken her for a Goddefsj^had you feen her. Every
thing in her and about her was graceful. In the mean
time out comes our biefled Bridegroom with his Snub-nofe,
dragging
C 433 ]
dragging one Leg after him, but not Co cleverly neither s;s
the S'witzers do ; itchy Hands, a ftinking Breath, heavy
Eyes, his Head bound up with a I^orehead-piece, and a
Running at his Nofe and Ears. Other People wear their
Rings on their Fingers, but he wears his on his Thighs.
Fef. What was in the Mind of the Lady's Parents, to join
fuch a Daughter to a living Mummy? Ga. I can't tell,
except it was with them, as it is with many more, that have
lofl their Senfes. Pet. It iliay be he was very rich. Ga. He is
very rich indeed, but it is in the Debts he owes. Fet. What
greater Punifhment could they have inflided upon the Maid,
if flie had poifon'd her Grandfathers and Grandmothers, both
of the Father's and Mother's Side.? Ga. Nay, if flie had
fcatter'd her Water upon the Grave of her Parents, it would
have been a Punilliment bad enough to have oblig'd her but
to have given a Kifs to fuch a Monfter. Pef. I am of your
Mind. Ga. I look upon it a greater Piece of Cruelty, tha,ri
if they had ftripp'd their Daughter naked, and expos'd her
to Bears, Lions, or Crocodiles : For thefe wild Beails would
either have fpar'd her for her exquifite Beauty, or put her
out of her Pain by a quick Difpatch. Pef. You fay right: f
think this is what would have become Mezentius himfelf,
who, as VirgH tells us, bou?id dead Bodies to living oiieSy
Hands to Hands^ and Mouths to Mouths. But I don't believe
Mezentius himfelf would have .been fo inhuman CiS to have
bound fuch a lovely Maid to fuch a Carcafs as this : Nor
is there any dead Body you would not chufe to be bound
to, rather than to fuch a ftinking one ; for his Breath is
rank Poifon, what he fpeaks is Peftilence, and what he
touches mortifies. Ga. Nov/, Petroniusj imagine with your
felf what a deal of Pleafure flie muft needs take in thefe
KifTes, Embraces, and nocturnal Dalliances. Pet. I have
fometimes heard Perfons talk of unequal Matches, that
may certainly with the greateft Propriety be call'd an une-
qual Match j which is, as it were, letting a Jewel in Lead,
But all this while I ftand in Admiration at the Virgin's Cou-
rage j for fuch young Damfels are frighted out of their Wits'
at the Sight' of a Fairy or a tlobgoblin ; and can this Damfel
dare to embraice fuch a Carcafs as this in the Night-time ?
Ga. The Damfel has thefe three Things to plead in her
Excufe j The Authority of her Parents, the Perfuafion of her
Friends, and the Unexperiencednefs of her Age. But I am
amaz'd at the Madnefs of her Parents. Who is there that
has a Daughter never fo homely, that would marry her
to a Lep^ .? Pet. No body, in my Opinion, that had a
Orain of Senfe. If I had a Daughter that had but one
Ff • • Eye,
[ 434 i
Eye, and but one Leg, and as deform'd as Therfites wa5,
iha.t Homer fpeaks of, and I could not give her a Penny for
her Portion, I would not marry her to Rich a Son-in-Law as
he. Ga. This Pox is more infedious and deftru6tive than
the worft of Leprofies : It invades on a fudden, goes off,
and rallies again, and frequently kills at laft^ while the
Leprofy v/ill fometimes let a Man live, even to extreme old
Age. Pet. Perhaps the Parents were ignorant of the Bride-
groom's Diftemper. Ga. No, they knew it very well. Pet.
If they had fuch a Hatred to their Daughter, why did they
not few her up in a Sack, and throw her into the Thames ?
Ga. Why truly if they had, the Madnefs would not have
been fo great. Pet. By what Accomplifhments did the
Bridegroom recommend himfelf to them } Was he excel-
lent in any Art? Ga. Yes, in a great many; he's a great
Gamefter, he'll drink down any body, a vile Whoremall:er>
the greatefb Artift in the World at bantering and lying, a
notable Cheat, pays no body, revels prodigally j and in
fliort, whereas there are but leven liberal Sciences taught
in the Schools, he's Mafter of more than ten liberal ones.
Pet. Sure he muft have fomething very extraordinary to
' recommend him to the Parents. Ga. Nothing at all, but
the glorious Title of a Knight. Pet. A fine fort of a
Knight, that can fcarce fit in a Saddle for the Pox ! But it
may be he had a great Eftate. Ga. He had once an indif-
ferent one '■) but by his living fo faft, has little or nothing
•left, but one little Turret, from whence he makes Incurfions
to rob PaflTengersi and that's fo illy provided for Entertain-
ment, that you would not accept of it for a Hog-ftye. And
he's always bragging of his Caftles, and Fiefs, and other great
things ; and is for fetting up his Coat of Arms every where.
Pet What Coat of Arms does his Shield bear.^ Ga. Three
Golden Elephants in a Field Gules. Pet. Indeed an Ele-
phant is a good Bearing for one that is fick of the Elephan-
tiafis. He muft, without doubt, be a Man of Blood. Ga.
Rcther a Man of Wine; for he is a great Admirer of Red
Wine, and by this Means he is a Man of Blood for you.
Pet. Well then, his Elephant's Trunk will be ferviceable to
him. Ga. It will fo. Pet. Then this Coat of Arms is a
Token that he is a great Knave, a Fool, and a drunken
Sot ; and the Field of his Coat of Armour reprefents Wine,
and not Blood;; and the Golden Elephant denotes, that what
Gold he had, has been fpent in Wine. Ga. Very right.
Pet. Well, what Jointure does this Bully fettle upon his
Bride ? Ga. What } Why a very great one. Pet. How can
a Bankrupt fettle a large one ? Ga. Pray don't take me up
fQ
[ 43S ]
fo fhortj I fay again, a very large one, a thundering PoxJ
Pst. Hang me, if I would not fooner many my Daughter to
a Horfe, than to fuch a Knight as he. Ga. I fhould abun-
dantly rather chufe to many my Daughter to a Monk ; for
this is not marrying to a Man, but to the Carcafs of a Man.
Now, tell me, had you been prefent where this Spe6lacle
was to be feen, could you refrain from Tears ? Pel:. How
fhould I, when I can't hear it without ? Were the Parents
fo abandon'd to all natural Affedion, as to throw away their
only Child, a Virgin of fuch Beauty, Accomplifliments, and
fweet Conditions, by felling her for a Slave to fuch a Mon-
fter, for a lying Coat of Arms ? Ga. But this enormous
Crime, than which you can't find one more inhuman,
cruel, or unlike a Parent, is made but a Jeft on now-a-days
by our People of Quality j altho' it is neceffary that thofe
that are born for the Adminiftration of the Affairs of the
Government, fliould be Perfons of very found and ftrong
Constitutions : For the Conftitution of the Body has a great
' Influence upon the Mind; and it is not to be doubted, but
this Difeafe exhaufls all the Brains a M^n has : and by this
means it comes to pafs, that our Minifters of State have
neither found Minds, nor found Bodies. Pet. It is not only
requifite that our Minifters of State fhould be Men of found
Judgment, and ftrong Conftitutions, but Men of Honour,
and goodly Perfonages. Altho' the principal Qualifications
of Princes are-Wifdom and Integrity, yet it is of fbme confi-
derable Moment what the Form of his Perfon is that governs-
others ; for if he be cruel, the Deformity of his Body will
expofe him the more to Envy. If he be a Prince of Pro-
bity and Piety, his Virtue will be render'd more confpicuous
by the Amiablenefs of his Perfon. Ga. That's very true.
Pet. Don't People ufe to lament the Misfortune of tbofe
Women, whofe Husbands, foon after their Marriage, fall
into Leprofies or Apoplexies ? Ga. Yes, and that with very
good Reafon too. Pet. What Madnefs is it then, voluntarily to
deliver a Daughter over into the Hands of a Leper ? Ga.
Nay, it is worfe than Madnefs, If a Nobleman has a mind to
have a good Pack of Hounds, do you think he would bring
a mangy fcoundrel Cur to a well-bred Bitch ? Pet. No, he
would with the utmoft Piligence look for a Dog, that upon
all accounts was of a good Breed, to line her, that he might
not have a Litter of Mungrels. Ga. And if a Lord had a
mind to have a good Breed of Horfes, would he aamit a dif-
eafed good-for-nothing Stallion to leap a moft excellent Mare.?
Pet. No, he would not fuffer a difcafed Stallion to enter his
Ffa Stable
t 43« ]
Stable l3o6f, left he fhould infed other Horfes. Ga. And
yet, at the fame time, they don't matter what Sort of a Son-
in,-Law they gave their Daughters to, \from whom thofe
Children are to be produc'd, that are not only to mherit
their Eftates, but alio to govern the State. Fet. Nay, a
Country Farmer won't fuffer any Bull to leap a young Cow,
nor every Horfe his Mare, nor every Boar to brim his Sow i
tho' a Buliock is defign'd for the Ploudi, a Horfe for the
Cart, and a Swine for the Kitchen. See now how perverfe
the Judgments of Mankind are. If a poor Fellow fhould
prefume to k'ifs a Nobleman's Daughter, they would think
the Affront a Foundation enough to go to War upon. Tet.
And very hotly too. Ga. And yet thefe Perfons, voluntarily,
knowingly, and deliberately, give up the deareft thing they
have in the World to ffich an abominable Monfter, and are
privately unnatural to their own Flefh and Blood, and pub-
lickly to their Country. Tet. If the Bridegroom does but
halt a little, akho' as to any thing elfe he is perfectly found,
how is he defpis'd for a Husband ! And is the Pox the only
thing that is no Inconvenience in a married Life? Ga. If
any Man iliould marry his Daughter to a Francifcan^ what
an abominable thing would it be accounted ! what an Out-
cry would there be, that he had thrown his Daughter away !
But yet, when he has pull'd off that Drefs, he has every
way well-made found Limbs j while the other muft pafs her
Days with a rotten Carcafs, that is but half alive. If any
one is married to a Prieft, he is banter 'd on account of his
Undion i but one that is married to one that has the Pox,
has one whofe Unctions are worle by abundance. Tet. Ene-
mies that have taken a Maid captive, won't be guilty of
fuch Barbarity as this,' nor will Kidnappers themfelves, to
thofe they have kidnapp'd away j and yet Parents will be
guilty of it againft their only Daughter; and there's no
Magiftrate ordain'd to prevent- the Mifchief Ga. How
iliould a Phyfician cure a Madman, if he has a Spice of
the fame Diftemper himfelf } Tet. But it is a wonder to
me, that Princes, whofe Bufmefs it is to take care of the
Common-wealth only in thofe things which relate to the
Body, of which nothing is of greater Moment than the
Health of it, fhould find out no Remedy for this Evil-
This egregious Peftilence has infedcd great Part of the
Earth i and in the mean time they lie fnoring on, and never
mind it, as if it were a Matter not worth- their Notice.
Ga, Have a care, Tetroniusj what you fay as to Princes.
But hark you, FlI tell you a Word in your Ear. Tet. O
wretched ! I wilh what you fay ws/e not true. Ga. How
many
I 437 1
many Difeafes do you think are caufed by bad Wine," a thou-
fand ways fophifticated ? Pef. Why, if we may believe the
Phyficians, they are innumerable. Ga. Well, and do the
Minifters of State take any Care of the Matter. Pet. They
t3k6 care enough as to the coUeding the Excife, but no
further. Ga. She that knowingly marries a Husband that is
4ot found, perhaps may deferve to fuffer the Punilhment
me has brought upon herfelfj altho', if it were my Fortune to
fit at the Helm, I would banilh them both from civil Society:
But if any one married one that was infefted with this Difeafe,
who told her he was a found Man, and I were chofen Pope,
I would make this Marriage void, altho' it had been con-
firmed by a thoufand Contrads. Pet. Upon what Pretence
I wonder } For Marriage legally contraded can't be difan-
nulFd by any human Power. Ga. What ? Do you think
that legally contraded, which is ' eontraded treacheroufly ?
A Contrad is not valid, if a Slave palms himfelf upon a
Maid for a Freeman, and ihe marries him. as ftach. She that
marries fuch a Slave, marries an errant Slave; and her Slavery
is fo much the more unhappy, in that the Lady Pfora never
makes any body free j that there's no comfortable Hope of
ever being deliver'd from this Slavery. Pet. Indeed you
have found out a Colour for it. Ga. And befides, there can
be no fuch thing as Marriage, but between thofe Perfona
that are living ; but in this Cafe, a Woman is married to a
dead Man. Pet. You have found out anodier Pretence ;
But I fuppofe you would permit pocky Folks to marry pocky,
that, according to the old Proverb, there might be like ta
like. Ga. If it was lawful for me to ad for the Good of the
Publick, I would fuflfer them to be married together, but
I would burn them after they were married. Pet. Then
you would ad the Part of a Tyrant, not of a Prince. Ga.
Do you account a Surgeon to be a Tyrant who cuts off forae
of the Fingers, or burns fomePartto preferve the whole Body?
I don't look upon that to be Cruelty, but rather Mercy.
And I wifh this had been done when this Diftemper firft
appear'd in the World; then the publickWelfare of Mankind
had been confulted by the Deflrrudion of a few. And we
find Examples of this in the French Hiflories. Pet. But it
would be a gentler Way to geld them, or part them afunder.
Ga. And what would you have done to the Women, pray ?
Pet. I'd padlock them up. Ga. That's one way, indeed,
to prevent us from having more of the Breed ; but I will
confefs ir is a gentler way, if you will but own the other
to be fafer. Even thofe that are caftrated, have an itching
Defire upon theraj nor is thelnfedionconyey'd by one way
Ff5. onl^i
[ 438 ]
only, but by a Kils, by Difcourfe, by a Touch, or by drink-
ing with an infected Party. And we find alfo, that there is
3 certain malicious Difpofition of doing Mifchief peculiar to
this Diflemper, that whofoever has it, takes a Delight to pro-
pagate it to as many as he can, tho' it does him no good. '
Now if they be only feparated, they may flee to other
Places, and may either by Night impofe upon Perfons, or on
them that do not know them. But there can be no Danger
from the Dead» Fet. I confefs it is the fafeft Way, but I
can't tell whether it is agreeable to Chriftian Gentlenefs,
or no. Ga. Prithee tell me then, from whom is there
the moft Danger, from common Thieves, or from fuch
Cattle ? Fet. I confefs Money is of much lefs Value than
Health, Ga. And yet we Chriilians hang them, nor is it
accounted Cruelty, but Juftice; and if you confider the
publick Good, it is our Duty fo to do. Fet. But in this
Cafe the Perfon is punifh'd that did the Injury Ga. What,
then thefe, I warrant you, are Benefactors to the Publick ?
But let us fuppofe that fome get this Diftemper without any
Fault of their own; tho' you will find that very few have it,
that don't get it by their ov\ai Wickednefs : the Lawyers
will tell you, it is fometimes lawful to put the Innocent to
Death, if it be very much for the Good of the Publick ; as
the Greeks, after the taking of Troy, put Afiyanax-, the
Son of HeBor, to Death, leit he ihould fet a new War on
Foot : Nor do they think it any Wickednefs, to put a Ty-
rant's innocent Children to Death, after they have flain the
Father. And do not we Cariftians go to War, tho' at
the fame Time the greateft Share of the Calamities falls
on thofe Perfons, that leaft deferve them ? He that does the
Injury is fav'd, and the greateft Part of the Calamities falls
upon thofe Perfons, that leaft deferve them. And it is
the fame thing in our Reprifals, or Letters of Mart; he
who did the Wrong is fafe, and the Merchant is robb'd,
who never fo much as heard one Word of it, he is fo far
from being chargeable with the Fault. Now if we make
life of fuch Remedies as thefe in Things of no great Moment,
what, think you, ought to be done in a Matter of the greateft
Conlequence ? Pef. I am overcome by the Truth of your
Arguments. Ga. Then take this along with you too. As
foon as ever the Plague begins to appear in Italy, the infedted
Houfes are fhut up, and th,e Nurfes that look after the Sick,
are forbidden to appear abroad. And tho' fome call this
Inhumanity, it is the greateft Humanity ; for by this pru-
dent Care, the Calamity is put a Stop to, by the Burials of
a few Perfons. But how great Humanity is it to take Care to
preferve
C 439 1
prefirve the Lives of fo many thoufands ? Some think it a
very inhofpitable thing, for the Italians, when there is but
the bare Report of a Peftilence, to drive Travellers from
their very Gates in an Evening, and force them to lie all
Night in the open Air. But for my Part, I account it an
A6t of Piety to take Care of the publick Good at the Incon-
venience of a few. Some Perfons look upon themfelves ve-
ry couragious and complaifant, in daring to venture to viiit
one that is fick of the Plague, having no Manner of Call at
all to do it j but what greater Folly can there be, than by
this Courage, when they come Home, to bring the Dis-
temper to their Wives and Children, and all their Family ?
What can be more unkind, than by this Complaifance
to a. Friend, to bring thofe Perfons that are the deareft to
you in the World, into the Danger of their Lives > But
rhen again, how lefs dangerous is the Plague it felf than the
Pox ? the Plague frequently paffes by thofe that are neareft,
and feldom affe6ts the Old j and as to thofe that it does af-
fed, it either difpatches them quickly, or reftores them to
their Health much founder than they were before. But as
for the Pox, what is that but a lingring Death ; or, to fpeak
more properly. Burial ? Pet. What you fay is very true ; and
at leaft, the fame Care ought to be taken to prevent fo fatal
an Evil, as they take to prevent the fpreading of the Le-
profy; or if this Ihould be thought too much, no body
fliould lee another fhave him, but be his own Barber. Ga.
But what will you fay, if both of them keep their Mouths
Ihut } Fet. They would take the Infedion in at their Nof-
trils. Ga. But there is a Remedy for that too. Pet. What
is it ? Ga. They may do as the Alchymifts do, they may
wear a Mask with Glaffes for Eyes to fee thro*, and a breath-
ing Place for their Mouths and Noftrils, thro' a Horn which
reaches from their Jaw-bones down to their Back. Fet^
That Contrivance might do pretty well, if there were no
Dang'^r from the Touch of the Finger, the Linen, the
Combs, and theSciflars. Ga. But however, I think 'tis the
beft Way to let the Beard grow, tho' it be even down to the
Knees. Pet. Why, I am of that Mind too. And then lee
there be an Ad of Parliament, that the fame Perfon fhan't be
a Barber and a Surgeon too. Ga. But that's the Way to ftarve
the Barbers. Pet. Then let them fpead lefs, and be fome-
thing better paid for Shaving. Ga. Let it be fo with all
my Heart. Pet. And let there be a Law made too> that
no body fhall drink out of the fame Cup with another. Ga^
They will fcarce be confin'd to that in England. Pet. And
that two flian't lie in the fame Bed, unlets they be Husband
F f 4 snd
[ 440 ]
md Wife. Ga. I like that very well. Pefi And then as
to Inns, let no Stranger deep in the fame Sheets, that ano-
ther has lain in before. Ga. But what will you do then
with the Germans^ who fcarce waHi them twice a Year ?
Vet. Let them employ Wafher Women. And befides, let
them leave off the Cuilom of faluting with a Kifs, altho' it
be of an old ftanding. Ga. But then, as to the Churches ?
Te. Let every one hold his Hand before his Mouth. Ga.
But then as to common Converfation } Fet. Let that
Direftion of Hojner be obferved, nor to come too near the
Perfon he talks to, and let he that hears him keep his Lips
fliut. Ga. Twelve Tables would fcarce contain all thefe
Laws. Pet. But in the mean Time, what Advice do you
give for the poor unforrunaie Girl? Pet. What can I give
her but this, that unlefs i]ie likes being miferable, flie b^
lb as little as fhe can ? to clap her Hands before her Mouth,
whenever her Husband offers tb kifs her; and to put on Ar-
mour when fhe goes to Bed with him. Ga. Whither do you
fteer your Courfe when you go home ? Pet. Diredly to my
Clofet. - Ga. What are you going to do there ? Pet. They
Jjave defired me to write an Epthalamiu?n ^ but inllead of
it, I will write an Epitaph.
pe I MPOSfC/KE.
I
The Argument.
This Colloquy co?itains a familiar Difcour/e betiveen Livinus
and Philip : where Livinus iyn^ofes upon Philip, hy
fpeakiag in Verfe^ 'wheti. he fuppos'd him to fpeah Profe.
PHILIP and LIVI N U S.
Ph. "TWifli you Health, Livinus. Liv. I will be well, if
Jl that will pieafe you ; but do you be upon your guard,
for I defigii to catch you, if you don't watch me very nar-
rowly. Ph. An open Enemy is not much to be feared.
But come on, deceive me if you can. Liv. I have deceiv'd
you already, and you have not perceived it^ but take Care
[ 441 1
of the fecond Time. Th. I believe I have to do with a
Mafter oi- L,eger-de-main j I can't find you have impos'd
upon me at all. L,iv. Well then, be very attentive this time,
except you have a Mind to be deceiv'd, as you have beea
twice already. Th. I am prepar'd for youj begin. Liv.
What you bid me do, is done already. Ph. What is a6ted,
or what is done ? I perceive nothing of Deceit. Liv. Well^
tho' I have given you Warning fo many timss already, how-
jcver mind this Time, Fh. This is a new Sort of Conjurar
-tion i you tell me you have impos'd upon me, and I per-
.ceive nothing of Art in all this, altho' I watch very nar?
yowly your Eyes, your Hands, and your Tongue. But come>
t'other Touch ; begin again. L-iv. I have begun again and
again, over and over fo many times, and you can't fee the
Trap that's laid for you. Th. Wherein do you lay a Trap
for me ? Liv. This Tongue, I lay,' of mine entraps you,
and you neither perceive it with your Ears, nor fee it with
your Eyes. However, now let your Eyes and Ears be both
attentive. Th. I can't be more attentive, if my Life lay at
llake J but however, try to trick me once more. L,iv. Why,
I have trick'd you again already, arid you perceive nothing
of the Artifice. Th. You make me mad : Prithee tell me,
what kind of Hocus-pocus is this? Liv. Why all this while
I have been fpeaking to you in Verfe, and am at this Time.
Th, I thought of nothing lefs than of that. Liv. At firlt
I anfwer'd you in two Trimeter Iambics ^ then in a Trochaic
Tetrameter Cataledric,- after that in nothing but Cretics ;
after that in a Phaulecian Hendecafyllable ; then again in
mere Goriambics; then in plain Anapaeftes; then again in
three Sapphics ^ by-rand-by in a Sotadic, and laft of all in a
Trochaic Tetrameter. Th. Good God! I lliould have
guefs'd a hundred things before I fhould have guels'd that.
If I live, I'll ferve you the Uke Trick. Liv. Do, if you
fan. Th. I have pay'd you in your own Coin twice, and
you did not perceive the Trick. Liv. What, in this fhort
time ? Th. I threaten'd you in an Iambic Tetrameter Ca-
taledic ? after that I added five Cretics. Liv. Why then I
find it is acccording to the old Proverb, Set a Thief to catch
^ Thief. Th. Very truej but I pray this for both of us,
that neither^ of us may have a more injurious Cheat pu6'
upon us. ' ' ■ . •
CYCLOPS,
C 442 ]
^ '^^ I ^j^p" ^^ l^f? ?
CYCLOPS, or the Gofpel-Qanier.
The Argu ment.
Cyclops, Of Evangeliophorus, inveighs againfi them nvho
have the Gojpel always in their Mouths, but nothi?tg
agreeable in their Uves. It contains bitter hiveHives
againfi Hypocrites, ivho make a Frofejjion of Religion ixsith
their Tongues, but deny Religion by their Converfation.
The Gojpely like Wine^ does no Good, except it be ijiiuardly
taken-
CANNIUS, POLYPHEMUS.
Can. VfTHat is Tolyphemus hunting after here? Foly.
W Do you ask what I am hunting after, when I
have neither Dogs nor Hunting-pole ? Can. Perhaps feme
Lady of the Wood here ? Poly. You have guefs'd flirewdly, ^
io here is my Hunting-Net. Can. What's this I fee ? Bac- \
thus in a Lion's Skin? Folyphemus with a Book in his
Hand, yaXn KgoKojov ; a Cat in a lacd Petticoat ? Poly.
Nay, I have not only painted my Book with Saftron, but
alfo with Vermilion and Azure. Can. I did not fpeak of
Crocus, but I fpoke Greek, Crocoton. It feems to be a mili-
tary Book, for it feems to be armed with BofTes and Plates,
and Kings of Brafs. Poly. Look into it. Can. I fee what
St h, and truly it is very fine ; but not fo fine as it fliould
be. Poly. What does it want? Can. You ought to put
'your Coat of Arms upon it. Poly, What Arms ? Can. The
Head of Silenus looldng out of a Hogfhead. But what
does it treat of? the Art of Drinking ? Poly. See what it
is, that you do not fpeak Blafphemy before you are av/are.
Can. Why then, is there any Thing in it that is facred ?
toly. What can be more facred than the Gofpel ? Can.
Good God! What does Polyphemus do with the Gofpei?
Poly. Why don't you ask, what a Chriftian has to do with
Chrift ? Can. I don't know, but that a Halbert would be-
come you better ; for if any one fhould meet you at Sea in
diat Figure, he would take you for a Pirate, or in the Wood
for
[ 443 ]
for a Highway-man. Foly. But the Gofpel teaciies us, not
to judge of Men by outward Appearance j for as a tyran-
nous Difpofition often lies hid under a Monkifli Habit, yet
fometimes a iliort Head of Hair, curl'd Whiskers, a ftern
Brow, a fierce Look, and a Feather in the Cap, and a BufP-
Coat and Breeches cut and flaiVd, cover" an EvangeUcal
Mind. Can. And why may it not ? fometimes a Sheep lies
hid under a Wolf's Skin. And if we may give any Credit
to Emblems, an Afs lurks under the C6at of a Lion. Toly.
Nay, I have known a Man carry the Sheep in his Face, and
the Fox in his Heart. And I wifh he had as candid Friends,
as he has black Eyes j and that he had as well the Value o£
Gold, as the Colour of it. Can. If he that wears a Wool-
len Hat, muft needs wear a Sheep's Head, how do you go
loaded, that carry a Sheep and an Eftrich too on your Head ?
But does not he ad: more abfurdly, that carries a Bird upon
his Head, and an Afs in his Bread? Poly. You bite too
clofe. Can. But it were very well, if that Gofpel that yon
have fo finely adorn'd, did reciprocally adorn you. Yon
have adorn'd it with Colours, I wiih it did adorn you with
good Manners. Foly. I'll make that my Care. Can. As
you ufed to do. Foly. But omitting all Reflexions, do you.
really blame thofe that carry the Gofpel about them ? Can. •
No, by no Means [minme JSentiuvi) Foly. What? will
you fay that I am the leaft Man in the World, that am tailor
than you by an Afs's Head ? Can. I don't think you are fo
much taller, tho' the Afs fhould prick up his Ears. Toly J
By an Ox's Head, I dare fay. Can. I like the Comparifon;
but I faid Mmime the Adverb, not Minme the Vocative
Cafe. Foly. Pray what's the Difference between an Egg
and an Egg ? Can. And what's the Difference, fay you, be-
tween the middle Finger and the little Finger ? Foly. Why,
the middle Finger is the longeft. Can. Wittily faid : what's
the Difference between the Ears of an Afs, and thofe of a
Wolf? Foly. The Ears of a Wolf are fhorter. Can. You
have hit it. Foly. But I ufed to raeafure long and . fhort
things by the Span, and by the Ell, and not by the Ears
Can. Come on. He that carried Chrift, was caH'd Chrifio-
pherj and inftead of FolypbeviuSy you, who carry the Gof-
pel, fhall be call'd the Gofpel-bearer. Foly. Don't you
think it a holy Thing to carry tbe Gofpel ? Can. Not at all,
unlefs you wUl allow me, that AfTes are the greateft Saints.
Foly. Why fo ? Can. Becaufe one Afs will carry at leaft
three thoufand fuch Books; and I am perfuaded you would
be able to carry as many your felf, if you were well ham-
per'd. Folj. I think there is no Abfurdity in attributing
Holinefe
[ 444 ]
Holinefs to an Afs, becaufe he carried Chrift. Can. I {han't
envy you that Holinefs^ and if you have a Mind to it, I
Hvill give you fome Reliques of that very Afs that Chrift
jrodeupon, to kiis. Foly. You will give me a very accepta-
ble Prefent \, for that Afe was confccrated by being touch'd
;by the Body of Chrift. Can. And thofe Perfons touch'd
-Chrift too, that fmote our Saviour on the Face. Foly. But
,come, tell me your Mind ferioufly j is it not a pious Thing *
to carry the Book of the Gofpel about one.^ Can. It is a
pious Thing, if it be done fincerely, and without Hypocrify.
Foly. Talk of Hypocrify to Monks j what has a Soldier to
do with Hypocrify ? Can. But firft tell me what Hypocrify
is. Foly. When a Man feeras to be one Thing, and is really
another. Can. But what does the carrying the Golpel about
•you fignify ? does it wot fignify a holy Life ? Foly. I fup-
pofe it does. Can. Well then, where a Man's Life is not
fuitable to the Book, is not that Hypocrify? Foly. It
feems fo to be. But what is it truly to carry the Gofpel ? jj
Can. Some carry the Gofpel in their Hands, as the Fran"
(ifcans do the Rules of St. Francis ; and at that Rate the •
Tarts Porters, Afles, and Geldings may carry if as ivell as
a Chriftian. Some carry it about in their Mouths, and talk
of pothing but Chrift and the Gofpel : This is Pharifaical.
Others carry it about in their Hearts. He is the true Goff>el-
bearer, that carries it in his Hands, in his Mouthy and in his
Heart. Foly. But where are thefe ? Can. The Deacons '
in the Churches, who both carry the Gofpel, read it to the
People, and have it in their Hearts. Poly. But for all that,
they are not all holy, who carry the Gofpel in their Hearts.
Can. Don't pky the Sopifter with me, A Man does not
carry it in his Heart, that does not love it with all his Soul;
and nobody loves it as he ought, that does not conform to it,
in his Life. Foly. Thefe Subtleties I don't underftand. Can.
I'll be plainer then. If you were to carry a Flaggon of Wine
tipon your Shoulders, what is it but a Lorden? Poly. No-
thing. Can. If you hold it in your Mouth andfpurtit out?
Foly. I fhould be never the better for it ; tho' I don't often ufe
to do fo. Can. But fuppofe you take a hearty Draught, as
your way is ? Foly. There is nothing more divine. Can. It i
warms the whole Body, brings the Blood into the CheeksJ
and makes a Man look with a merry Countenance. Foly. Mofy
certainly. Can. So it is with the Gofpel; being receiv'c"
into the Veins of the Soul, it renews the whole Habit of tha\
Man. Foly. It may be you think then, that I don't lead my
Life according to my Book. Can. No Body can tell thatj
better than your felf. Foly, If it, indeed;, were to be re-j
folvedi
[ 445 1
folyed after the military Manner. Can. Suppofe a Ma»
ifhould give you the Lye to your Face, or call you Block-
head, what would you do ? Voly. What would I do? I'd
give him a Box on the Ear : I'd make him feel the Weight
of my Fingers. Can. What if he iliould give you a Box
o'the Ear ? Voly. Why then I'd cut his Throat for it. Can.
But your Book teaches you another LefTon, and bids you
■ return good (Words) for evil , and if any one ftrikes you
on the right Cheek, to turn to him the left alfo. Voly. I
have read fo, but I had forgot it. Can. You pray often, I
fuppofe. Voly. That's Pharifaical. Can. Long Prayers are
indeed pharifaical, if they be accompanied with Oftentation.
But yoiir Book teaches, that you Ihould pray always, but
with your Mind. Voly. Well, but for all that I do pray
fometimes. Can. When ? Toly. Sometimes, when I think
on't: It may be once or twice a Week. Can. And what
is your Prayer ? Voly. Why, the Lord's Prayer. Can. And
how often do you fay it over ? Voly. But once : For the
Gofpel forbids vain Repetitions. Can. Can you go thro' the
Lord's Prayer without thinking of any thing elfe.? Voly. I
never try'd that. Is it not enough that I pronounce? I
• can't tell that God takes notice of any thing in Prayer but
the Voice of the Heart. Can. Do you fall often ? 'Poly. No,
never. Can. But your Book recornmends Prayer and Failing
both. Voly. I fhould approve of it too, but my Stomach
will not bear it. Can. But St. Vaul fays, that he Is no Ser^
'vant of Cbrifi that ferves his Belly. Do you eat Fleflt
every Day ? Toly. Yes, when I can get it. Can. And you
are of a robuft Conftitution, that would live upon Hay (like
a Horfe) or the Barks of Trees. Foly. But Chrill fays, that
thofe things that go into a Man do not defile him. Can^
Nor do they, if they be taken moderately, and without
giving Scandal. But St. Vaul-, who was a Difciple of Chrifl,
would rather ftarve with Hunger, than offend a weak Bro-
ther by his eating ; and he exhorts us to follow his Example,
and that we become all Things to all Men. Voly. But Vaul
35 Vaulj and Tolyphemus is Tolyphemus. Can. But it is JEgon^s
Office to feed She-Goats. Toly. But I had rather eat my
felf. Can. That's a pleafant Wifh ; you'll fooner be a He-
Goat than a She one. Toly. But I ufed ejfe for edere. Can.
Neatly fpoken. Do you give liberally to the Poor ? Foly.
I have nothing to give. Can. But you would have fome-*
thing to give, if you lived foberly, and took Pains. Voly.
But it is a pleafant thing to live at Eafe. Can. Do you
keep the Commandments ? Voly. That's a hard Task
icdeed. Can. Do you repent of your Sins ? Voly. Chrift has
made
[ 44^ ]
made Satisfacition for us already. Can. How is it then that
you make it out, that you love the Gofpel ? Voly. I'll teil
you ; there was a certain Francifcan with us, who was per-
petually thundering out of the Pulpit againft Erafmus's New
Teftament ; I caught the Fellow once by himfelf, and took
him hold by .the Hair with my left Hand, and nubbled him
fo well-favouredly with liiy right, that you could fee no
Eyes he had for the Swellings. What do you fay now ? .
Was not this done like a Man that loves the Gofpel ? And
after all this, I gave him Abfolution with this very Book,
knocking him over his Coxcomb three times, made three
Bunches upon his Crown, in the Name of the Father, Son,
and Holy Spirit, and fo abfolv'd him in form. Can. This
was evangelically done, wirhout queftion : This is indeed a
defending one Gofpel with another. Toly. I chanc'dto light-
upon another, a Brothet of his, of the fame Order, who was
ftill railing againft Erafmus without either End or Meafure.
My Gofpel-Zeal mov'd me once again, and I threatned
him fo fevcrely, that I brought him to beg Pardon on his
Knees, and confefs, that what he faid was by the Inftigation
of the Devil. J. ftood over him with my Partisan in my
Hand, looking upon him like xhsVidixxr&oiMarsin a Battle,
ready to have cut off his Head if he had not done it readily ;
and this was done in the Prefence of a great many WitneP
fes. Can. I wonder the Man was not frighted out of his
Wits. But to proceed j do you live chaftly ? Foly. It may
be I fhall when I come to be old. But fhall I tell you the
.Truth, Cannius ? Can. I am no Prieft, and if you have ft
mind to confefs your felf, you muft feek fomebody elfe.
Polj. I ufe to confefs to God, but for once I'll do it to you :
I am as yet no perfed, but a very ordinary, Chriftian. We
have four Gofpels, and we Military Gofpellers propound to
our felves chiefly thefe four things : i}?. To take care of
pur Bellies, zdly. That nothing be wanting below. 3^/)',
To have wherewith to live on. And lafilj, To do what we
lift. And when we have gain'd thefe four Points, we drinlfc
and fmg as if the Town was our own. Let the Gofpel livey
and Chrifl reign. Can. This is the Life of an Epicure, not
of a Chriftian. Toly. I can't deny that. But you know
Chrift is omnipotent, and can make us other Men in an
Inftant, if he pleafes. Ca?i. Yea, and he may make you
Swine too, and that feems to be an eafier Change than into
food Men. Toly. I wifti there were no worfe things in the
V^orld, than Swine, Oxen, Alles and Camels. You may
find a great many People that are fiercer than Lions, more
ravenous than Wolvesj more luftful than Camels j who will
- ' ■ bita^
[ 447 ]
bite worfe than Dogs, and fting worfe than Vipers. Can,
But it is now high time for you to turn from a Brute to a
Man. Vol). You fay well, for I find in the Prophecies of
thefe times, that the World is near at an End. Can. There
is fo much the more Reafon for you to make hafte to
repent. Voly. I hope Chrift will give me his helping HandJ
Can. But do you fee that you render your felf fit Matter to
work upon. But from whei-ice do they gather, that the
World is fo near an End ? Voly. Becaufe, they fay. People
are now doing juft as they did before the Flood j they are
eating and drinking, marrying and giving in Marriage ^ they
whore, they buy, they fell, they pawn and lend upon Ufury,
and build ^ Kings make War, and Priefts ftudy to encreafe
their Revenues j School-men niake Syllogifms, Monks run
up and down the Worlds the Rabble makes Mobs, and
Erafmus writes Colloquies j and, in. fine, no Miferies are
wanting. Hunger, Thirft, Robberies, Hoftilities, Plagues,
Seditions ; and there is a great Scarcity of all that is good :
and do not all thefe Things argue that the World is near
an End .? Can. But of all this Mafs of Mifchiefs, which of
them is it that troubles you moll } Toly. Guefs. C/7»»That
Spiders perhaps make Cobwebs in your empty Pockets.
Toly. As I hope to live, you have hit it. I am juft now
come from drinking hard j but fome other time, when I
am fober, if you will, we'll have another Touch at the
Gofpel. Can. And when fhall I fee you fober? Po/y.When
I am fo. Can. And when will you be fo ? Voly. When
you fee me fo. And, my dear Cannikin, in the mean time,
all Happinefs attend you. Can. And, by way of Requital,
I wifh you may be what you are called. Toly. And, that
you may not outdo me in Courtefy, I wifh the Can, from
whence you have borrowed your NanjCj may never fail
Camiius,
Anpos-
I 448]
5" J> ^- ji ,ij> ^' 'J' uJ* ^' ^' ^ -i" 3^ •iy t^.tJ J- J'^t^^.^t^^^^,^^ jf ^
AnPOSAlONTSA.
O^ ImpertinentSy or Crofs-Purpofis.
The Argument.
Thh Colloquy, call'd * Av^offS^t^vvrA, or Abfarda, contains a
confufedDifcourfe^nxihere noJohig is anpwered to theFurpofcy
hut is mere No?tfenfe : For one enquires about a Wedding^
■ 4nd the other a?ifvjers about a dangerous Voyage.
A N N i U S and L U C I U S:
An. T WA S told that you were at Fancratius^s and Albi-
i nas Wedding. Lu. I never had a more unhappy
Voyage in my Life> than at this time. An. What fay you ?
Was there fuch a Power of Company then ? T^u. I never
would have taken lefs for my Life, than at that time. An.
See what it is to be rich j now I had but a few at my Wed-
ding, and thcv were poor Folks too. Lu. We were fcarce
put to Sea, but a great Storm arofe. An. Why, you're talk-
ing of an AfTemMy of the Deities ^ Were there fo many
Noblemen and Ladies there? Lu. Boreai tore the Sail in
Pieces, and blew it quite away. An. I know the Bride, flie's
a perfed Beauty. Lu. Prefently a Wave comes and tears
off the Rudder, ^n. It is every body's Opinion. And her
Bridegroom does not come much fhprt ot her in Beauty,
according to common Report. Lu. What do you tliink we
thought of the Matter ? An. It is very rare now-a-days for
any to be Maids when they are married. Lu. We were
obliged to fail back again. An. You talk of an incredible
Portion. Lu. Prefently we had another Misfortune befel us.
An. Why did they venture fuch a tender Girl to fuch a
boifterous Fellow ? Lu. We efpied a Pyrate Ship. An. In
truth, it is io in many Cafes; Naughtinefs malces amends
for want of Age. Lu. There we had a double Engage-
ment, one with the Sea, and another with the Pyrates. An.
What, fo many Services ? and in the mean time no body
gives a Farthing to the Poor. Lu. What ! fliould we have
ftruck Sail? Nay, Defpair made us fight de^erately. An.
I ana afraid it will be but a barren Match, if what you fay
be
[ 449 1
be true. L,u. Nay, we threw our grappling Irons. An. Thi^
is a Novelty indeed ! What, with Child before Marriage ? L.u.
Had you but feen the Conflid, you would have fworn, that
I fought like an Hero. A7t. Well, I find the Marriage was
not only made, but confummated too. L,u. We jump'd aboard
the Pirate Ship. An. But I admire that they invited you who
are a Stranger, and did not invite me who am related to the
Bride's Father in the third Degree of Confanguinity. L». We
threw them all over-board into the Sea. An. You fay right :
The afflided have no Friends. L.u. Wefharedall the Booty
among us. An. Fll rally the Bride for it the firft Opportunity
I have. Lu. It prefently grew very calm ; you would have faid
it had been the Halycon Days. An. If fhe has Money, I have a
ftomachful Spirit : I don't care a Fig for her Kindnefs. LiU.
And fo we brought two Ships home inftead of one. An. Let
him be angry that will. Lu. Where ami going, do you ask?
Why to Church, to make an Offering of Paf t of the Sail to
St. Nicholas. An. I an't at Leifure to Day, I expe(^ fome
Friends to dine with mej at another Time I won't refufe.
t^hs Falfe Knight : Or, 'I n n E T s "A Njn n E r%*
The Argument.
Iffffaioi avi'Vtfivt, or counterfeit Nobility:) expofes the Vices
of thofe Perfons 'who think they may do any Thing under
the Mask of Nobility ^ altha' they are not remarkable for^
either Nobk Birth or Virtue : But K7taves^ that have a
good Stock of Impudence y arrogate to the?nfel'ves that Honour
that they dorCt deferve^ unlefs Honour is due to the mofi
flagitious Crimes.
• H A R. P A L U S and NESTOR.
Mar. /^ A N you help me out now with your Advice ? If
^^ you can., you fhall find I am neither forgetful nor
ungrateful. Nef I'U bring it about that you fhall be what
you would be. Har. But it is not in our own Power to be
born Noble-nien. Nef. If you are not a Nobls-man, ftrive
G 2 b^
[450]
by virtuous A^lions, that your Nobility may derive its Ori-
ginal from your felf. Har. That's a long way about. Nef.
Then the King will fell it you for a fmall matter. Har.
But Nobility that is purchafed with Money, is ridiculed by
the Vulgar. Nef. If Nobility that is bought be fo ridicu-
lous a thing, why are you fo fond of being a Knight ? Har.
There are Reafons for that, and no flight ones neither,
which I fliall freely tell you, if you'll but put me in the
way of making myfelf honourable in the Opinion of the
Vulgar. Nef. What fignifies the Name without the Thing ?
Har. But as I han't the Subftance, I would have the Reputa-
tion of it. But, my Nejfor, give me your Advice, and when
you hear my Reafons you will fay it is worth my while.
Nef. Well, fincc you will have it, I'll tell you : In the firft
place, remove yomT^lfto a Place where you are not known.
Har. Right. Nef. Then work your felf into the Acquain-
tance of young Men of Quality. Har. I take you in. Nef.
Firft of all, by this means. People will be apt to judge of
you by the Company you keep. Har. They will fo. Nef.
But then you muft be fure to have nothing about you that is
vulgar. Har. As to what, do you mean? Nef I fpeak of
your Cloaths, that they be not made of Wool, but Silk;
but if you cannot go to the Price of Silk, rather Fufbian or
Canvafs, than Cloth. Har. You're in the right. Nef. And
take care not to wear any thing that's whole ; but cut your
Hat and your Doublet, your Hofe and your Shoes, and your
Nails too, if you can. Never talk of any thing that is
mean. If any Traveller comes out of Spain, enquire of him
how the King and the Pope agree, how your Coufin the
Count of Najfau does, and all the reft of the Officers your
old jolly Acquaintance. Har. It ftiall be done. Nef. Wear
a Seal-Ring upon your Finger. Har. That's if my Pocket
"'will fpeak. Nef. Then you may have a brafs Ring gilt with
a Doublet for a fmall matter: But then you muft have
your Coat of Arms upon it too. Har. What Bearing would
you have me chufe .? Nef Why, if you will, two Milk-Pails
and a Pot of Ale. Har. You joke upon me j but do, tell
me ferioufly. Nef Was you ever in a Battle ? Har. I ne-
ver faw a Battle. Har. But I believe you have beheaded
the Farmers Geefe and Capons. . Har. Ay, many a time,
and manfully too. Nef Why then, let your Coat of Arms
be, three Goofe Heads Or, and a Whinyard Argent. Har.
What muft the Field be ? Nef What fliould it be but
Gules > a Monument of Blood fhed plentifully. Har. Ay,
why not } for the Blood of a Goofe is as red as the Blood
pf a Man. But pray go on. Nef. Have this Coat of Arms
hung
C 4ii ]
"hung over the Gate of every Inn you lodge at. Har. What
fhall be added to the Helmet ? N^/ That's well thought
on, make that with a Mouth flit from Ear to Ear. Har.
What's your Reafon for that ? Nef. Firft;, to give you Air j
and then, that it may be fuitable to your Dre fs. But what
muft the Creft be ? Har. I want to konw that. Nef. A
Dog's Head with bangle Ears. Har. That's common.
Nef. Then add two Horns to it, ' this is uncommon. Har.
I like that very well. But what Beafts fhall I have for Sup-
porters ? 'Nef. Why, as for Bucks, and Dogs, and Dragons,
and Griffins, they have been all taken up already by Princes j
you fliall have two Harpies. Har. Nothing can be better.
Nef. But then we want the Title. In the firft Place, you
muft be fure to take care not to fufFer yourfelf to be calFd
Harpalus Comenfsj but Harpalus a Como ; the one is noble,
the other pedantick. Har. It is fo. Nef Is there any thing
you can call your felfLord of? Har. No, notfo much as a
Hog's -Stye. Nef. Was you -born in any famous City ? Har.
No, in a poor forry Village ■, for a Man muft not lye v.'hen
he asks Counfel. Nef That's Very true ; but is there never
a Mountain near that Village ? Har. There is. Nef. And
is there any Rock near that ? Har. Yes, a very fteep one.
Nef. Why, then you fhall be, Harpalus-, the Knight of the
Golden Rock. Har. But moft great* Men, I ohferve, have
their peculiar Motto's : As, Maxi7niUan had, Keep ivhhm
CofTipafsj and Philip, He that 'will -.^ and Charles^ Further
jet; fome one thing, and fome another. Nef Well, do you
let yours be, TurTz every Stone. Har. Nothing more perti-
nent. Nef. Now, to confirm the World in their Eftecm of
you, you muft counterfeit Letters fent you from fuch and
fuch great Perfons, in which you muft frequently be ftyled
the IllufirioMs Knight ; and there muft be mention made of
great Affairs, as of Eftates, Caftles, huge Revenues, Com-
mands, great Offices, rich Matches : and you muft contrive
that thefe Letters fhall fall into People's Hands, as being
dropt by chance, or forgotten. Har. That will be very
eafy to me ; for, I underftand Letters, and have fo us'd my
felf to it, that I can counterfeit any Man's Hand, fo exa£ily^
that he Jhall not knoiu it from his own. Nef. Either fev/ them
into your Garment, or leave them in your Pocket, that when
you fend your Cloaths to the Taylor to mend, he may find
them, and he'll make no Secret of it j and when you come
to the Knowledge' of it, put an Air of Vexation and Dif-
pleafjre on your Countenance, as if you were heartily vex'd,
you were fo carelefs as to leave them there. Har. I have
pradtifed that fo long, that I can as eafily change my Coun-
i G g 2 tenance
[ 45^ ]
tenance, as I can my Drels. Nef. By this means the Deceit
will not be difcovered, and the Matter will be blaz'd abroad.
Har. ril be fure to take great Care of that. Nef. Then you
muft furnifh yourfelf wiih Companions, or Servants, who
fhall ftand Cap hi Hand to you, and call you my youns; Lord
at every Turn. You need not be difcourag'd at the Charge j
there are a great many young Men who will act this Part for
nothing, or for the Humour's-fake. And beiides, there are
a great many fcribbling Blades in this Country, that are
ftrangely infeded with the Itch (I was going to fay the Scab)
of Writing j and there are hungry Printers, that will venture
at any Thing, if there be but any Hope of getting Money.
You muft bribe fome of thefe, to give you in their Pam-
phlets the Title of a Nobleman of your Country, and let it
be repeated every now and then in Capital Letters. Thus
they will celebrate you a Nobleman in BoheiJiia \ and one
Book fpreads more than an hundred talkative Tongues, or
prattling Servants. Har. I don't diflike this Way neither;
but there will be Servants to be maintained. Nef. There
will fo j but then you muft not keep idle Servants, that have
no Hands j they will be unprofitable. You muft fend one
one Way, and another another, and fo they will lay their
Fingers on fomethingqr other ; they will have frequent Op-
portunities of doing that. Har. Say no more : I underftand
you. Nef. And then there are other Inventions. Har.
Pray lef me hear them. Nef. Unlefs you are an expert
Gamefter at Cards and Dice, a rank Whore-mafter, a ftout
Drinker, a daring Extravagant, and underftand the Art of
Borrowing and Bubbling, and have got the Fre7ich Pox to-
boot, fcarce any one will believe you to be a Knight. Har.
I have been train'd up to thefe Exercifes. But where muft
I get the Money ? Nef Hold, I was coming to that : Have
you any Eftate ? Har. A very little one. Nef Well, but
when you are once fettled in the Reputation of a great
Man, you will eafilyfind Fools that will give you Credit;
fome will be afham'd, and others afraid to deny you ; and
there area thoufandWays to delude Creditors. Har. I am
not unacquainted with them. But they'll be very preflTing,
when they find nothing coming but Words. Nef Nay, on
the contrary, no Man has his Creditors more at Command,
than he that owes Money to a great many. Har. How fo ?
Nef. Firft of all, your Creditor pays you that Obfervance, as if
he was the Perfon obliged ; and is afraid left he fliould give
any Occafion of lofmg his Money. No Man has his Servants
fo much in Awe, as a Debtor his Creditor ,* and if you ever
piy them any Thing, it is more kindly taken than if you
gave
C 453 ]
gave it them. Hai-. I have found it fo. Nef. But you
inuft take care not to deal with little People, for they'll make
a great Noife for a fmall matter ,• thofe th'at have a more
plentiful Fortune, are more eafy to be appeas'd ; they v/ill
be rellrain'd by Modefty, led on by Hope, or deterr'd by
Fear, for they know the Danger of meddling with Men of
Power. And laft of all, when you're got over f lead and
Ears in Debt, then upon one Pretence or another remove
your Qtiarters firft to one Place, and then to another ,• and
you need not be afham'd of that, for no Body is more in
Debt than great Princes. If you find your felf prefs'd by a
Fellow of mean Condicion, make as if you were provok'd
by his Confidence j bat make a fmall Payment now and
then, but never pay the whole Sum, nor to all your Credi-
tors. But you mufi: always take Care that none ever come
to know that you have an empty Pocket; always make a
Shew of Money. Har. But what can a Man make a Shew
of that has nothing? Nef. If any Friend has given you
any Thing to lay up for him, fhewit as your own, but do it
artfully, as if it were done by Chance. And it v/ill be good
in this Cafe to borrow A'loney and fliew it, tho' you pay it
again prefently. Pull a Couple of Guineas, that you have
plac'd by themfelves, out of your Pocket, from a whole
Pocket full of Counters. You may im.agine ^-— — Har. I un-
do rftand ye; but at laft I muft of neceffity fink under my
Debts. Nef. You know what Knights can do wirh us. Har.
They do juft what they pleafe, and there's no Redrefs.
Nef. Let thofe Servants you keep be fjch as are diligent
ones, or fome of your Kindred, fuch as muft be kept however.
They'll ftumblenov/ and then upon fome Merchant upon the.
Way, and rob him ; they'll find foraething in an Inn, a
Houfe, or a Boat that wants a Keeper ; they will remember
that a Man's Fingers v/ere not given him for nothing. Har.
Ay, if this could be done with Safety. Nef. You muft take
Care to keep them in handfom Liveries, and be ftiU fending
them v/i':h counterfeit Letters to this great Man, or the other.
If they fteal any thing, altho' they fhould fafpecl: them, no Body
will dare to charge them with it, for Fear of the Knight their
Mafter. If they chance to take a Booty by Force^ 'tis as good
as a Prixe in War. Har. O brave Counfel ! Nef. This
Maxim of Knighthood is alwavs to be maintain'd. That it is
lawful for a Knight upon the Road, to eafe a com.mon Tra-
veller of his Money ; for what can be more diPnonourable,
than for a pitiful Tradefman to have Money enough, and a
Knight at the fame Timev/ants it to fpendupon his Whores,
and at Dice ? Get as much as you can inlo the Company of
G g 5 g^reat
[ 454 ]
great Men, tho' you pin your felf upon them ; and that you ■
may not be afham'd of any thing, you muft put on a brazen
Face, but efpecially to your Hoft. And it will be beft for
you to live in fome publick Place, as at the. Baih, and at the
moft frequented Inns. Har. I was thinking of that. Nef.
In fuch Places Fortune will oftentimes throw fome Prey in the
way Har. Hov/.? I befeech you. Nef. Sappofe one drops
a Purfe, another leaves the Key in the door of his Store-
houfe, or fo, you take me in. Har. But— — Ne/^ What are
you afraid of.? Who'll dare to fufped a Perfonthat goes as
you do, talks great, the Knight of the Golden-Rock ? If
there fhall happen to be any fancy Fellow, impudent
enough to dare to fufped you, the Sufpicion will rather be
caft upon fome body that went away the Day before. There
will be a Diforder among the Mafter and the Servants, and
do you behave your felf as a Perfon wholly unconcein'd. If
this Accident befals either a Man of Modefty, or of Brains,
he'll pafs it over without making Words of it, left he lofe
his Credit as well as his Money, for looking no better after
it. Har. That's very probable, for I fuppofe you know the
Count of the Whhe-Vuhure. Nef. Why not ? Har. I
have heard of a certain Spaniard, a handfom genteel Fellow,
that lodg'd at his Houfe, he carried away a matter of fix
hundred Florins ; behaving himfelf with that State, that
the Count never dar'd to open his Mouth againft him. Nef
You have a Precedent then. You m.ay now and then fend
out a Servant for a Soldier, and he having rifled Churches
and Monafteries, will return loaden with the Plunder, that
he has got by the Law of Arms. Har. This is the fafeft
Expedient that we have had yet. Nef There is yet another
way of getting Money. Har. Pray let me hear what that
is. Nef Pick a Quarrel with thofe that have a good deal
of Money, efoecially with Monks or Priefts ; for the Peo-
ple generally look very invidioufly upon them now-a-days,
'V!z. One broke a Jeft upon you, another fpit upon your
Efcutcheon, anoiher fpoke difnonourably of you ; one or the
other wrote fomething that might be interpreted fcandalous.
Send your Heralds to declare an irreconcilable War. Breathe
nothing but Deftruftion and Ruin : And they being terrified,
will come to you to make it up. Then fee that you kt a ,
great Price upon your Dignity j and that is, you muft ask \
out of Reafon, for your bearing that which is reafonable.
If you m.ake a Demand of three thoufand Guineas, they
will be afham'd to offer you Icfs than two hundred. Har.
And I will threaten others with the Law. Nef. That's ^
more like a Sycophant y but yet it may help in fome de-
gree.
[ 4^5 ]
gVee. Bat hark ye, Ilarpalus, I had almofi: forgot what I
lliould have mention'd firft : Some young Wench v/ich a
good Fortune is to be drawn into the Noofe of Matrin^ony;
you have Charms in your felf, you're young and hand Pome,
you're a Beau, and have a pretty failling Countenance j
give it out that you are call'd away to fome great Office in
the Emperor's Court. Girls are fond of marrying Nobility.
Har. I know fome that have made their Fortunes this v/ay.
But what if the Cheat ihould be difcovered, and all my Cre-
ditors ftould fall upon me at once? Then I, the iliam
Knight, fhail become a Laughing-flock j for Creditors
hate this fort of Tricking worfe than they do robbing of
Churches. Nef. Why, in this Cafe you mufl: remember
to put on a brazen Face, and that Impudence never pafl: fo
current for Wifdom, as it does now-a-days. You rnuft be-
take your feif to Invention for fome E::cufej and you will
always find fome eafy People, that wiU favour it j and fome
fo civil, that if they perceive the Fallacy, they will not dis-
cover it. And laft of all, if you can do nothing elfe, you
muft fliew them a Pair of Heels, and run into the Army or
a Riot: /^r as the Sea hides all Mifchiefj fo War hides all
Sins. And now-a-days, he that has not been train'd up in
this School, is not look'd upon fit to be a Commander.
This muft be your laft. Shift, when every thing elfe fails
you j but you miift turn every Stone before you come ro't.
Take'care that you are not ruin'd by being bound for other
Men. ■ Shun little Towns that a Man can't let a Fart in, but
the People muft know it : In great and populous Cities a
Man may take more liberty, unlefs it be in fuch a. Place a?
Marfeilles. Make it your Bufmefs to know what People
fay of you ; and when you hear the People begin to talk at
this rate, What does this Man do here fo long ? why does
he not go home, and look after his Caftles ? vv'hence doa
he take his Pedigree } whence doe:^ he get Pvloney to live fo
extravagantly ? v/hen you find that fuch Talk as this grows
rife among the People, it is time for you to think of pack-
ing up your Awls, and be jogging in good timej, but
make your Retreat like a Lion, and not like a Hare,
Pretend you are call'd away by the Emperor to fome great
Employment i and that you fhall return in a fhort time at
the Head of an Army. Thofe that have any thing they are
not willing to lofe, u'on't dare to open their Mouihs agdnfl
you when you are gone. But above all, I advifeyou to have
a care of that peevilTi malicious fet of Men call'd Poets. If
any thing difpleafes them, they will envenom their Papers,
and the Venom of them will be qf a fudden diffuied all the
G g 4 World
[ 4in
World over. iJav. Let me die if" I am not wonderfully
pleas'd with your Counfel ; and I'll make it my bufinefs to
let you fee that you have got a docible Scholar, and a Youth
that is not ungrateful j the firft good Horfe that I fhall get
into my Pafture, that is equal to your Deferts, I will prefent
you with. NejC Well, all that remains, is, that you be as
good as your Word. But what is the Reafon that you fliould
be fb fond of a falfe Opinion of Nobiliiiy ? Har. For no
other Reafon, but that they are in a manner lawlefs, and do
what they pleafe. And do you think this a matter of fmall
moment } Nef. If the worft come that can come. Death is
owing to Nature, akho' you liv'd a Carthuf.an ; and it is an
eafier Death to be broken on the Wheel, than to die of the
Stone, the Gout, or the Palfy : for it is like a Soldier to
believe, that after Death there remains nothing of a Man
but his Carcafs. Har. And J am of that Opinion.
A STPArAAISMOS.
The Argument-
*A<r^ya)^itfufj or the Tlay of Cock-all, fljeivs 'what the Ta-
lus />, and where it is fttuated. How they us'd to play
at Cock-all in old Time. Why the Clergy wear their Gar-
ments down to their Ancles .^ for the fake of Mode fly and
HifiinBion. Talus is a fort of a Leg-Botie. The Etymo-
logy of *Af^}ecKQ; a fort of Play, in Englifh caWd
Cock-all, or Take-all. The Ace is a had Cafi of the
Dice. Aumes-acc.) or Dog-chance. Size is a good Cafi^ and
is caWd Senio or Midas.
CLU IRINUS, CHARLES.
'^. /^ATO bids us learn of thofe that are learned,' and
^ for that reafon, my Utenhovius, I have a mind to
make ufe of you for my Mafter. For what reafon did the
antient Diredors in religious Affairs, order the Clergy to
■iBVe^r Ancle-Coats, that isy Veftraents reaching down to their
Ancles?
[ 457 1
Ancles ? Ch. I am of Opinion it was done for thefe two
Reafons : Firft, for the fake of Modefty, that nothing of
Nakednefs might be expofed : For, in old Time, they did
not wear thofe fort of Trowfers that reach from the Waift
to the Feet j nor did they, in common, wear Drawers or
Breeches. And, for the fame Reafori, it is accounted im-
modeft for Women to wear fhort^Coats, long ones being
more agreeable to the Modefty of the Sex. In the fecond
place, not only for the fake of Modefty, but alfo to diftin-
fyuifh them from the common People, by their Habit ;
for, the more loofe they are in their Morals, the fhorter
they wear their Coars. ^. What you fay is very probable.
But I have learn'd from Arifiotle and Vliny^ that Men have
not the Tali:, but only four-footed Beafts j and not all of
them neither, but only fome of thofe that are cloven-footed;
nor have they them in their hinder Legs. FIov/ then can
the Garment be call'd a Talaria?i Garment, which a Man
wears, unlefs in former Days Men v/ent upon All-fours, ac-
cording to Arifiofhanes's Play ? Ch. Nay, if we give cre-
dit to Oedipus^ there are fome Men that are four-footed,
fome three-footed, and fome two-footed, and oftentimes they
come from a Battle one-footed, and fometimesf without e'er
a Foot at ail. But, as for the V/ord, you would be more at
a Ibfs if you were to read Horace, who attributes the Tali
to Plays. For thus, I think, he writes in his Art ofVoetry j
Securus cadat, an rsBo fict fabula talo.
Being regardlefs whether or no the Comedy fall or ftand up-
on ksTaluf.
^. Poets have a Liberty of fpeaking as they pleafe;
who give Ears to TfaoluSj and make Ships fpeak, and
Oaks dance. Ch. But your own Ariflotle could have
taught you this, that there are half Tali, which he calls
y!fUAre$tyix.^^(> that he attributes to thofe Beafts that are of
the Lyux-kind. And he fays, that Lions have that v/hich
is inftead of the Talus-, but it is crooked, or turned to and
froj and that \^hich he calls ?^a.^veiv^<hi, Pliny tranflares
tvrtuofum [full of Turnings and Windings.] And in the laft
place, Bones are every v^^here inferted into Bones, for the
Conveniency of bending the Joints ; and there are Cavities
for the receiving the Prominencies that anfvver so them, that
are defended on each fide v,'ith a flippery Cartilage, the
Parts being fo inviron'd, or kept in, that" they can't hurt one
another^ as the fame Arlftotle teaches us. And there is,
for the moft part, in thefe, fomething that anfwers pretty,
near, both in Form and Ufe, to ithe" Talus : In the lowep.
part
[ 4i8 ]
part of the Leg, near the Heel, where is the bending of the
whole Foot, there is a Prominence which refembles theT^-
lusy which the Greeks call c^vpiv. Again, we fee in the
benrjing of the Knee a Vertebra-, which, if I am not mifta-
ken, they call tVxfov. And we alfo fee fomething like this in
the Hips, in the Shoulders, and, laftly, in the. Joints of
the Toes and Fingers. ,And, that it may not feem ftrange
to you, the Greeks write, that the Word aqpayaxtx; is, jn
approved Authors, applied to the Bones, of which the Spine
is compos'd, efpecially in the Neck. For they quote you
this Verfe :
'£k St fiQi u\j%i\\> dsrpaiycUwv taAni,
My Neck-Bo7ie -was broke on the outjide the Tali.
And, as Ariflotle fays, the Fore-Legs are given to Animals,
upon the account of Swiftnefs, and fbr that reafon are with-
out the Tali ; the Hind-Legs for Firmnefs, becaufe the
weight of the Body bears upon that part : as alfo it contri-
butes to Strength in thofe Creatures that kick. Horace, to
fignify th-.it the Play was not cut^ort, butaded quite to the
end, fays, Stetzt fixo talo ; and ufes the Word Talus in a
Play, in the fame Senfe as we apply the Word Calx to a
Book i and alfo fays, the Umhilkus 'veluminis-, or Navel of
a Volume. ^. In troth you play the part of a Grammarian
very cleverly. Ch. But to confirm it, the more learned
Greeks will have 'AcpayaAo^ deriv'd of (jlpt^w, and the privative
Particle »j becaufe it is never bended, but is immoveable.
But others chufe to derive a^payaAo; from acrayaAc?, by infert-
ing the Letter p» becaufe it can't ftand by reafon of its flip-
pery Volubility. ^. If you go that way to work, you may make
a great many more GuefTes : but I think it a fairer way to con-
fefs Ignorance in the matter. Ch. This Guefs will not feem
fo very abfurd, if you confider what great Obfcurity there is
\r\ the primitive Origin of Words : And befides, there is no-
thing contradidious in the matter, if you look narrowly into
it. The Talus is voluble, but it is voluble aftar fuch a manner,
that it renders that part to which it is inferted, the m.ore firm
for ftanding ; and then it joins one Bone to another. ^. I find
you can play the part of a Sophifter, when you have a mind
to it. Ch. Bftt there is nothing in the Word Talus, that the ^
Etymology of it fhould perplex us ; for that which the modern
Greeks call icrp^ya^o^, the Antients, of which Calli?nachusy^zs
one, call'd a<?p(ovi to whom this Hem iftich is afcribed As'k^ 8'
Arrp/a! avvTo Aurpcv ; whence, as the Greeks us'd the Word
«ffTp«y«Ati;«*v, fo they alfo ufed the \Vord •?i»i'?«'v, to play at
Cock-t
[ 4ip ]
Cock-all. ^. What then is that which is properly the Ta-
lus ? Ch. It is that which now-a-days the Girls play with ; it
was formerly a Boy's Play, as Cob-nuts was ; concerning
which there is this Grepk Sentence, ' Ayup' d^^^Koifft %oA«9«f>
when they would intimate that Perfons were angry tor a Tri-
fle. Again Horace in his Odes has Nee regna vini fortiere
talis. And dKoinhxs Ser?nones:y Te talosAuie nucefque^ Sec.
And lallly, that Saying of the Lacedemo7iian, if I am not
mifbaken, Pueros ejje fallendos taliSj viros jurejuravdo.
They deny that the Talus is found in any Animal that is fuiftf-
^v, that is, that has a folid Hoof, except the hidian h&
mat has but one Horn ; or that is nsowxtiii^ that has ixs
Foot divided into many Toes or Claws j or which fort are the
Lion, the Panther, the Dog, the Ape, a Man, a Bird, and
a great many others : But thofe Animals that are J>'^»a«,
that have a Hoof divided into two, many of them, have the
Talusj and that^ as you faid very rightly, in their hinder.
Legs. Man only has not the Talus for tv/o Reafons : Firit
becaufe he is two-foored j and fjcondly, becaufe his Foot is
divided into five Toes. ^. That I have heard often ,• but
I fhould be glad to hear where the Talus was fituated, and
what Form it has defcribed ^ for that fort of ,P]ay is quire
out of doors with Boys now-a-days, and they rather atxed:
Dice, Cards, and other mafculine Plays. Ch. That is not xo
be wonder'd at, when they affed Divinity it felf : But if I
were a Mathematician, or a Painter, or a Founder, I could
not reprefent it more clearly to you, than by fhewing you the
Talus it felf; unlefs you would have me defcribe it algebrai-
cally, as they do. JJ«. Have you got e'er a Talus ? Ch.
Here's one out of the right Leg of a Sheep , you fee it has
but four fides, when a Cube and a Dice has fix, four on the
Sides, one at the Top, and one at the Bottom, ^f. It is ib.
Ch. And forafmuch as the upper and lower Part ot the Tal^s
is crooked, it has but four Sides, one of which, you fee, ^ifes
like a Ridge. ^. I fee it. Ch. On the oppofite Side there
is a Hollow j this Arifiotle calis v£^h:, that is, prone ^ and
prone :
towards the Ground, is prone j if you turn it up, it isfupins;
tho' Orators and Poets do fometimes confound the ufc of thefe
Words, but that is nothing to the matter in hand. ^«..You
have demonftrated this very plainly to my fight ; but what's
the difference between the two ocher Sides ? Ch. One of
them is hollowed a little, to make it aniwerable to the Bone
to which it is joined j the other has no HoUovv^ at all to fpeak
on.
r 4<?o 1
en, and is not fo much defended with a cartilaginous Coat,
but is only cover'd with a Nerve and a Skin. ^. I fee ic
very plain. Ch. The prone fide has no Nerves at all ; but
to the Concavity of the fupine part a Nerve adheres, to the
top of the right fide and the bottom of the left. ^t. You
make it out very plain ; but how muft 1 know the right fide
from the left ? Ch. That's very well minded ; for I had in-
ftrudled you very illy, except you fuppofe me to mean the
Talus of the right Leg : I will tell you, and at the fame
time I'll fhew you the Situation of it, which you defired to
know. The Talus is in that Bending of the Leg beneath the
f^ip-" ^- A o;reat many are of opinion it is near the Foot.
Ch. They are under a Miilake : That which is properly
caird the Talus, is in the Bendings of the Joints, which the
Greeks call rj,y.mfy but thofe of the hinder Legs, as I faid
before, between your Foot and your Knee, is the Tihia.
^. Why, fo I think. Ch. Behind the Knee, yj.yL7ni. §lu.
lallow it. Ch. For thofe Bendings which Men have in their
Arms, four-footed Beafts have in their hinder Legs j but I
except the Ape, which is but half Man: and fo that
which is the Knee in the Leg, is the Elbow in the Arm.
^. I take it in. Ch. And fo one Bending anfv/ers to ano-
ther. ^. You mean of the Fore-Legs and the hinder Legs.
Ch. You have it : So that in that Bending 'which anfwers tQ
the Bending which is behind the Knee, the Talus ftands,
when a four-footed Beaftftands upright, the upper and lower
part of which is a little bended, but not altogether after the
fame manner ^ for the upper part is folded back into a fort
of Horns, as it were, which Arifiotle calls Mfidcti i Theodorus
tranflates the Word Antemias , near to which the prone lide
gives way, the bottom has no fuch thing. >^. I perceive
it very plainly. Ch. Therefore Arifiotle calls that fide which
is towards the Fore-Legs, fupine j and that which is con-
trary to it, prone. Again, there are two fides, one of which
inwardly, is towards the hinder Leg, either the right or left,
fuppofe which you will^ the other looks outwards : that
whigh looks inivards Arifiotle calls xwAoi/, and that which
looks outwards, )^iov. ^- I fee it plainly with my Eyes :
but ftill here's this to be done, to inform me v/hat was the
antient manner of playing with thefe Tali : for the Play, as
it is us'd now-a-days, is quite different from what we find
in antient Authors concerning this fort of Play. Ch. And
truly "that's very likely, as we in like manner now pervert
the ufe of Cards and Dice from the antient manner of play-
ing with them. ^i. What you fay is very probable. Ch.
Theodorus Gaza^ or as others rather chufe to call him, of
Thef
[ ^6i ]
Tlheffalowca^ in tranflating Ariflotle's fecond Book of his
Hiftory of Animals, fays, That the Side of the Talus that
looks outwardly tranfvevfe, was call'd Caiin j and that which
looks inwardly to the other Leg;, Venus: and then he adds
to it thi<; of his own, for Ariflotle faid no more ; To yXv
<ZS^i AT^nKAyTti A /<7X'* iig-KiiyAVct 1^0 KAl 7Kf YJi^tuAi AVa. But
lince it is certain that the Throw is call'd Venus's by other
■Perfons, as often as in four Dice the uppermofc Sides of them
all are different one from another ^ I wonder by what Exam-
ple Theodorus calls one Side Veiii'.s. Our ^■rafi?ws-, who
is our common Friend, who is no negligent Obferver of thefe
things, in fome of his Proverbs upon the Authority of the
Antients, intimates fome Things of the Play of the Tali j as
in the Proverb, tJon Ckius fed Cot;s j he fays, that the Cnta
and the Size were the fame that the Greeks call'd i^'/Jtiv.
He relates tVie fame in the Proverb Chif/s ad Co'.'.s^ ( addmq;,
that Chius was the iame with Ca?iisj the Ace. ) That tha
Cad of the Co?// was a lucky Call, but of the dinis an un-
lucky one, according to the Teftimony of Terfms.
-^iid dexter Senio ferret
Scire erat in votis-, danmofa cajiicula ejiiaiitum
Raderet. ■ ... . , . , . ■ ,
And likewife Proper ttus ',
Semper dammjt fuhfiluere canes.
And Ovid-, in his fecond Book de Trifvibus, calls them,
damnofos canes.
And Martial adds, that the Size by it felf is a lucky Cafe j
but ii-2XiAce comes up with it, unlucky^ for fo he Ipeaks,
Senio necnojlrum cum Cane quajfat Ehur.
And now a? to Venus'^ Caft, as it is What happens but
very feldom, fo it is a very lucky Throw : As Martial wriic;;
in his Apophoreta ;
Cum fleterit I'uitu nnV.us tihi gratus eodem^
Munera me dices inag^m ne dedijjk tibi.
For they play'd with fo m.any Tali as every one had Side:::
for as to Dice, they ufed to play but with three. But that
which Snetonitis writes of Ocfavius Ar.gzijius comes nearer
to
to the Method of Play, reciting out of a certain Epiftle of
his to Tiberius j At Supper ive played, both Teflerday and to
I>ay-, like old, grave Alen, at Tali : And as any one threw
an Ace or a Size-, he laid down a Piece of Money for every
Talus-, and he that threw Venus took up all. flu. You told
me before, that it was a very fortunate Throw when any
one threw four different Sides, as at Dice-Play the moil for-
tunate Caft is" Midas ; but you did not tell me that this Cafl
was call'd FeTius. Ch. Lucia-a will make that Matter plain
to you : Thus fpeaking concerning Cupids, xa) /SoacSv ixiv i%t
•xtaivlo^ icio xA(j.a,Tf-, 'xuctuvvn rfji Ii<6i/fi»a5 Ttvita^cu vcj!x»i^6ov. tie
there fpeaks ot Veiius. ^u. li' Theodorus is miltaken, his
Words only make mention of two Sides. Ch. It may be,
he followed the Authority of fome Author that is out of my
Memory ; but I have quoted what I find in Authors : For,
there are fome that fpeak of the Stefichorian Number, as to
the Tali, which they take to be the Number Eight; and
alfo of the Euripidian, which contained 40. But it remains,
that you lay down the Rules of the Play. Ch. I am not of
the Opinion, that Boys made ufe of the fame Rule that
O&avius writes he obferv'd : Nor is it probable, that this
Game which he fpeaks of was a common one ; if that had
been fo, it had been enough for him to have faid, after Sup-
per lue played at the Tali. But he feems by this to hint,
that it was a new Method that they had invented among
themfelves, as one that was fit for Perfons of Age, not puz-
ling their Minds by a careful Thoughtfulnefs, as a great
many of our modern Games do ; ib that it is much lefs Fa-
tigue to the Mind to ftudy hard, than to play. G)u. Prithee,
pull out the reft of the Tali, that we may try an Experiment
with them. Ch. But we have no Turret, nor Box to throw
them in. ^. Why, this Table will do well enough to try
any Experiment with them ; or this Cup, or Cap, will fup-
ply the Place of a Turret. Ch. Nay, huflling them in the
Palm of one's Hand may do well enough. A Throw oftner
turns up the Supine Face than the Prone Face ; and the Prone
Face, ofmer than a Size or an Ace. ^/. So it feems. CU.
Now, iC there be an Ace turn'd up in the four Tali, you
fhall lay down one Piece of Money ; if there are two, two
Pieces ; if three, three Pieces ; if four, four Pieces : and as
often as you throw a Size, you fhall take up one Piece. ^«.
But what if I fhould throw Size Ace ? Ch. Why, if you will,
both of us fhall lay down, and neither of us take up ; and
he that throws four different Spots fhall take up all ^u.
What if we throw upper, or under, Blank ? Ch. That Throw
fhall
[ 46'3 ]
fhall go for nothing, and either you fliall throw again, or I'll
take it. ^. I had rather the other fhould take the Caft,
Ch. Now down with your Money. ^». Let's play for no-
thing. Ch. Would you learn fuch an Art as this for nothing?
^. But it is an unequal Match, for one that knows nothing
of the Game to play with a Gamefter. Ch. Well, but the
Hope of Winning, and the Fear of Lofin|;, will make you
mind your Game the better, ^i. How much fhall we play
for ? Ch. If you have a mind to get an Eftate quickly, let's
play for loo Crowns. ^. I wifh I had them to ky down.
But 'tis the fafer way to grow rich gradually. See here's a
whole Half-penny. Ch. Well, come on, we'll add a little
to a little, as Hefiod advifes, and this will in time make a
large Heap. Shake them, and throw away. A good Begin-
ning : You have thrown an Ace j lay down your Money, and
acknowledge you're on the lofing fide. Give me the Tali.
^. That's a better Beginning, tliere's three Aces; lay down.
Ch. Fortune is laying aTrap tor you j throw away, but huflle
them firft. O good Man ! you have got nothing at all, there
is an upper Blank and an under one. 'Tis my Throw, give
me the Tali. ^. Well done again, I fee three Aces. Ch.
Well, eion't reckoTi your Chickens before they be hatch'd.
Well, Fortune has a mind to make a Gamefter of you ; but
mind, this is my v/ay of learning. But I am of the Opini-
on, that OBavius play'd after a different manner. ^. How
was it .? Ch. He that threw an Ace, laid down a Penny, as
we faid ,• he that threw a Size took up nothing, but the other
laid down. ^. But what if he threw Doublets ? Ch. Then
the other laid down fo many Pieces ; and when there was
a good Heap of Money down, he that threw Ve^zus took up
all ; and you may add this, if you will. That he that throws
neither Siz.e nor Ace, fhall only lofe his Throw. _gw. I agree
to it. Ch. But I look upon this to be better. That he that
holds the Dice fhall throw thrice, and then give the Throw
to the other. ^. I like that well enough. But hov/ many
Venuis will you make up.? Ch. Why three, if you will;
and after that, you may make a new Bargain, or play who
fhall talce all : For a Size comes up but feldom, and but
to very few neither. Now let us make a lucky Beginning',
^i. Well,- lee it -be fo,- but we had beft have the Doors
fliut, left our Quean of the Kitchen fliould happen to fee?
us playing atChUdrens Play. Ch. Nay, we rather play at
old Mens Play. But have you got a Blab of a Servant then ?
^. So great a Goflip, that if fhe can't find any body eT^
to teli what's done at home, fhe'U hold a long Difcourfe with
. ' the
C 4^4 ]
thfe Hens, or Cats, about it. Ch. Soho Boy ! fliut the Door
and lock it, that no Body come and furpri2£ us ■, that we
may play our Belly-full.
rXNAlKOSTNEAPION.
The AJJemhly or Parliament of Women,
The Argument.
*rhis Senate ofWomen^ or TiwajtyanviiA&ioVj 'very handfomely
expojes Jome of the Faults of Wojnan-kind : They have a
mind to fet up a Common-'wealth., a-nd a Varliamenty as
the Men have. They fay they could order Matters better
than the greatefi Fr'inces have done. A Woman that dif-
graces her Husbajid^ difgraces herfelf. The Condition of
Women is fafer than that of Men. They treat of Drefs
and Attire ,• arid that there be a Difference betiveen the
Commonalty and Gentry.
CORNELIA, MARGARET, PEROTTA,
JULIA and CATHERINE. .
Corjz. C I N C E lo many of you are aflembled here to day,
•^ and in (o good Humour, for the Good and Happi-
nefs of this Convention, and the whole Common-wealth of
Women, it gives me the greateft Hope, that every one's
good Genius will fuggeft to her thofe Things that concern
the Dignity and Advantage of the whole Sex. I believe,
you all know what a Prejudice it has been to our Affairs,
that, while the Men have had their daily Meetings for tranf-
a6ling their Affairs, we have been fitting at our Spinning-
Wheels, and neglected the Management of our own Caufe.
Whence Things are now come to that pafs, that there are
not the lealt Footfteps of Difcipline and Government left
amongfl: us j and the Men make a mere Jefl of us, and fcarce
allow us the Title of rational Creatures. So that if we go
on as we have done, you may eafily forefee what will come
on ic in a fhort Time^ and indeed, I am afraid to utter it:
and if we Ihould take no Care at all of our Dignity, yet we
, ou'-i.'
ought to have fome Regard to our Safety. And the wifeft
of Kings has left it upon Record, that in the Multitude of
Counfellors there is Safety. The BilTiops have their Sy-
nods, and the Flocks oFMonks their Conventicles ; the Sol-
diers their Councils of War, and Thieves and Pick-Pockets
their Clilbs; and even the Pifmires themfelves have their
Meetings : And we Women, of all living Creatures, are the
only ones that have had no Meetin^of Members at all. Mar.
Oftner than is becoming. Cotk. Don't interrupt there; let
me conclude my Speech, and you Ihall have all Time to fpeak
in your Turns. That which we woiy do is no new Thing; we
onlj revive an old Cuftom : For, if I am not miitaken, about
1300 Years ago, that moll praife- worthy Emperor He/ioj;^^^- "
lus — Per. Moft praife-worthy ! when it is certain he was
dragg'd about with a Hook, and thrown into a Houfe-of-
Office. Corn. Here I am interrupted again. If we approve, or
difapprove of any Pef fon, by this Way of arguing, we muft al-
low Chrifl was an ill Perfon heczuCz he was crucified ; and
Domitian a good Man, becaufehe died in his Be i. The word
Thing that was laid to the Chargecf Heliogahalusj was his fling-
ing down to the Ground the facred Fire that was kept by the
Veftal Virgins ; and' that he had the Piftures of Mofes and
Cbrifi hanging up in his private Chapel, whom, by Way of
Contempt, they called Chrejius. This Heliogab alus ^^\xh\ii\\c6.
a Proclamation, that as he, being Emperor, had a Parlia-
ment of Men to confult of their common Afirairs ; fo his Mo-
ther Augufla fhould have her Parliament of Women to trans-
act the Affairs of their own Sex ; which the Men, either by
way of Drollery, or Diftindion, cail'd the L.ittle Senate.
This Precedent, which has been omitted for fo many Years,
the prefent Pofture of our Affairs obliges us to revive. Nei-
ther let any one be fcrupuloiis, becaufe the Apoftle Faul for-
bids a Woman to fpeak in the AfTembly, that he calls a
Church ; for he fpeaks of an AfTembly of Men, and this is
an Affembly of Women. Otherwife, if Women muft al-
ways hold tneir Tongues, to what Purpofe did Nature give
them, which are as voluble as Mens, and a Voice that is
fhriller } altho' they make a hoarfer Sound, and thereby re-
femble AfTes more than we do. But this ought to be the
Care of us all, to manage our Debates with that Gravity,
that the Men may not call our AlTembly a Conventicle, or
by Ibme other more fcandalous Name : and they are ufed
to be forward enough to be fcurrilous in their Language to
us ; altho' if one might eftimate their Parliaments according
to Truth, they will appear more womanilli than the AfTem-
bliej of Women themfelves. We fee Monarchs have done
H h nothing
r 46^
rK)thmg but figftt, for thefe I don t know how many Year^-i
The Students of Divinity, Prieftsj Bifliops, and People, are
at Daggers-drawing, and there are as many Opinions as there
are Men in the World, and they are more inconfiflent in them
than we Women our felves are. One City does not agree
with another, nor one Neighbour with another. If the fu-
preme Adminiftration were entrufted in our I-Iands, I am
miltaken, if the World v/ould not be managed at a better
rate than now it is. Perhaps it may not become our female
Modefty, to charge fuch noble Perfonages with Folly ; bur,
f fuppofe, I may be allowed to recite what Solomon has writ-
ten in- the \'\th Chapter of his \Proverbs, There is alijjays
Contention among the Vroud\ hut they that do every thifig
by Counfely are governed by iVifdom. But that I may not de-
tain you any longer with a tedious Preamble ; to the end
that all Things may be carried on decencly and without Con-
fufion, in the firft Place it will be neceffary to confider who-
fliall be allowed as Members, and who lliall be excluded.
For too great a Company uv// make it look more like a Mob
and a Riot than a grave Aflembly j and if we take in too-
few, it will feem to be fomething t)'rannical : Therefore I"
humbly conceive, that no Virgin is to be admitted as a Mem-
ber i becaufe many Things may happen to be debated, that
are not proper for them to hear. Jul. But how fliall we be
able to know who are Virgins and who are noL ? Will you
allow' all thofe to be Virgins that pafs for fuch ? Corn. No^
but my Meaning is, that none but married Women be ad-
mitted among us. ^ul. But there are Virgins among thofe
that are married ; fuch as have Fumblers for their Husbands.
Corn. Well, but this Honour fhall be allowed to a married
'- State, that all that have been married ilrall be allowed to b»
Wom.en. ^ul. Under your Favour, if you exclude none but
Virgins, we fliall ftill have too great a Number. Corn. Well
then, thofe fhall be excluded that have been more than thrice
married. Jul. For what Reafon? Corn. Becaufe they
ought to have their qjdetus ejl, as being fuperannuated.
And I am of Opinion, that we ought to do the fame by thofe
that are upwards of 70 Years of Age. I think alfo-, that it
ouo-ht to be refolved, Nemine contradicente-, that no Woman
he allovSd particularly to mention her own Husband by Name
too freely: It may be allowed to fpeak in the general j but
that too ought to be done with Moderation and Decency.
Ca. But why may it not be allow'd us to talk freely of the
Men here, when they are always talking about us every
where ? My Titius-, whenever he has a Mind to divert his
Compaijy, tells them what he did with me in the Night,
what
[ 4«7 1 ■
what I faid to him, and oftentimes affirms what is hlCel
Corn. If we would fpeak the Truth, our Reputation de-
pends wholly upon that of the Men ; fo that if we expofe
them, what elfe do we do but disgrace ourfelves ? And
akho' indeed, we have a great many juft Complaints againft^
them j yet, all Things being duly coniideredj our Condition
is much preferable to theirs : For they, endeavouring to get
a Maintenance for their Families, fcamper thro' all the Parts
of the Earth by Land and Sea. In Times of War, they are
call'd up by the Sound of the Trumpet, ftand in Armour inf
the Front of the Battle, while we fit at home in Safety. If
they tranfgrefs the Law, they are punifh'd fevereiy ; but our
Sex is fpared. And in the lafl Place, for the moftPart it is .
iri our own Power to make our Husbands fuch as we would
have them. But it remains, that we come to fome Refo-
lutions about Precedency in taking Places; left it fhould
be with us as it often happens among the Plenipotentiaries"
of Kings, Princes, and Popes, who, in their CongrefiTes,
fquabble away three Months atleaft in Punftilios and Cere-
mony, before they can lit down to Bufinefs. Therefore it is
my Opinion, that none but Peerefifes lit in the firft Bench ;
and thefe fhall take their Places according to the Degrees of
their Nobility : Firft, thofe that have four ; next, thofe that
have three; after them, thofe that have two; then, thofe who
have but one ; and laft of all, thofe who have but half a
one : And in every Ra.nk Regard Hiall be had to Antiquity.
Baftards of every Rank ftiall fit in the loweft Place of it.
The next Bench fliall be that of the Commons , and of thofey
they /hall fit in the foremoft 'Places who have had the
moft Children ; and betv.'^een thofe who have had the fame
Number, Age fiaall decide the Difference. The third Bench
fliall be for thofe who never had any Children. Ca. Where
do you intend to place the Widows ? Corn. Well remem-
bred. They fhall have their Seats in the Middle of the
Mothers, if they have Children, or ever had any; thofe that
have been barren, fhall fit at the lower End of them. Jul.
Well, but what Place do you defign for the Wives ofPiic{!s
and Monks ? Corn. We will confider of that Matter at our
next Meeting, yul. What do you determine about thofe Wo-^
fnen who get their Living by their bodily Labour? Corn,
We will not fuffer this Affembly to be polluted by the Mix-
ture of fuch Cattle. Jul. What will you do concerning kept
Miftreflfes? Corn. They are of feveral Ranks; we'll confi-
der that when we are more atLeifure. There's another Mat-
ter t o be confidered of. How we fhall give our. YckQS ;
whether by Seratclung or Balloting, or by Word of Mouth, or
H h a Hotdiii^
• [ 4^8 ]
H&lding up our Hands, or . by Dividing. Ca. There arc
Tricks in Balloting, and fb there are in Scratching ; and if
wc give our Vote by Dividing, as we wear long Petticoats,
we ihali raife too much Duft j fo that I am of Opinion, it
will be the beft Way for every one to give her Vote 'viva
'voce. Corn. But it will be a difficult Matter to number the
Votes. And then too, great Care cu?lit to be taken, that it
be not rather a BiUi?2gfgate than a Senate, [a Place of Scold-
ing, rather thsn a Place of Pleading.] Ca. It will be impof-
fible to do any Thing without Clerks, to take Care that nothing
be omitted. Com. Well then., we have taken Care about num-
bering j in the next Place, how fliall we exclude Scolding ? Ca.
That no-body fpeak but when fire is asked, and in her Turn
too. She that does oiherwife, fhall be expelled the Houfe. And
if any one fhall be found to blab out what is tranfaded here,
fhe lliall incur the Penalty of a three Days Silence. Corn.
Well, Ladies, ^ohv'we hai-e fettled Matters, as to the Method
of Proceeding ; now let us confider what we fhall debate
about. In the firft Place, we ought to take Care of our Ho-
nour ; and that confifts chiefly in Drefs, which Matter has
been fo neglefted, that now-a-days you can fcarce know a
Dutchefs from a Shop-keeper's Wife ; a married Woman from
a Maid, or a Widow or a Matron, from a Whore. Modefty
is remov'd at that Diftance, that every one wears what Ap-
parel fhe pleafes. You may feethofe, that are fcarce one
Degree on this Side Beggars, and of a bafe and fordid Ex-
traSion, drefs'd in their Velvets, Silks, and water'd Tabbies,
Garden Sattins, Sprigg'd Callicoes and Chintzes, in Gold
and Silver, Sable Tippets, (i^^c. whofe Husbands in the mean
time fit at home cobbling Shoes. Their Fingers are loaded
with Emerald and Diamond Rings ; for Pearls are now
made no Account of ; not to mention their Amber and Coral
Necklaces, their lac'd Shoes. It was formerly thought enough
for your ordinary Women, to be allo'vS'd the Privilege to
wear a Silk Girdle, and to border their Petticoats wich a
Ribbon, in Honour of the Sex : But now we labour under
a double Inconveniericy ; the Family is beggar'd, and Diftinc-
tion, which is the Life and Soul of Quality, is quite loft. If
the Wives of the Commonalty muft be dragg'd about in
gilded Chariots, adorn'd with Ivory Seats, and CoflFoe Line-
itigs and Coach-feats, what fliall Dutchefles and CountefTes do ?
And, if a 'Squire's Spoufe fhall be allow'd to drag a Train
after her of 15 Ells long, what muft a Dutchefs or a Coun-
tefs do ? But there is one Thing that is worfe than all this,
that by an unaccountable Ficklenefs v/e are always altering
tJje Fafhion. Formerly our Head-DreflTes were mounted
upon
I
Upon Wires ; and by this Drefs, Women of QiiaHty were
known from ordinary cnes. Agiin, that the Difterence
might be more vifible, they wore Caps of Ermin poivdered
with black Spots : But ;he Mob had 'em prefently. Then
they altered the Fafhiorf again, and wore black Caps '■, but
Women of the ordinary Sort did not only prefume to imi-
tate them, but out-did them, by adding Gold Embroidery and
Jewels to them. Formerly it was the Cuilom of Ladies pf
Quality, to comb up their Hair from their Foreheads and
Temples, and to make a Tower of it ; but this did not laft
long j for every Baggage fbon fell into that Faihion. Then
they wore their Hair on their Foreheads ; but in this too they
'Were foon followed by the ordinary Sort. Formerly none
but Ladies of Quality had their Genclemen-Ufliers, and Pages,
and out of theft: they chofe fome pretty fmock-fac'd Fellow to
take them by the Hand, when they arofs from their Chairs,
or to fupport, their left Arm with his right, when they walk'd, ^
but this Honour was granted to none but Gentlemen. But
now, Womep in common following this Fafliion, admit a,ny
Piean Perfons to this Office, and alio to bear up their Train
too. And whereas formerly, in primitive Times, none but
Perfons of high Extradion faluted one another with a Kifs,
and did not permit every one to kifs them, no not fo much
as their Hand j now-a-days a Tanner or Currier ^ that ftinks
of the Leaiher, fhall preRime to kifs a Lady of the higheft
Quality. Nay, even in Marriages, there is no Regard had to
Honour : Noblemens Daughters are married to Tradefmens
Sons, and Tradefmens Daughters to Noblemen ; fo that
a fort of Mongrels are brought into the World. Nor is
there a Wench of ever fo mean a Birch, but v/ould prefuni,©
to ufe the fame Paints and Wafhes that the Quality \jS& ;
when ordinary People ought to be fatisfied with a little Ale
Yeaft, or the frefh Juice of a Tree that has been barked,
or any fuch thin^ that cofts but lirtle : They ought to leave
the fine Paints, Wafhes, and Cofmeticks, to Women ofQua^
lity. To come now to publick Entertainments and the Paric,
what Confufion and Diforder is there ! A Merchant's Wife
fhall oftentimes refufc to give place to a Lady of noble De-
fcent both by Father and Mother : So that the prefent Po-
fture of Affairs calls upon us to come to fome Refo^ution as
to thefe Matters : and thefe things may be eafily fettled among
UB, becaufe they belong to none but our own Sex. But
there are alfo fome Affairs that we have to fettle with the Men
too, who exclude us from all honourable Employments, and
only make us their Landrefles, and their Cooks ^ while they
themfclves manage every thing according to ^heir own Plea-^ .
C 470 ]
fui^. We will allow them the Management of publick Offices,
and military Concerns : But is it a fafFerable Thing that the
Wife's Coat of Arms 0iould be painted on the left Side of the
Efcutcheon, altho' her Family is twice as honourable as that
of her Husband's ? And in the laft Place, it is but juft, that
a Mother's Confent fliould be had in putting out the Chil-
dren. And it may be, wefliallgain the Afcendantfo far, as to
take our Turns in the Ad minift ration of the publick Offices;
but, I mean, only thofe that can be managed at home, and
without Arms. Thefe are the chief Heads of the Matters,
which, in my Opinion, deferve our Deliberation. Let every
one here dehberate with herfelf upon thefe Matters, that an
A6tmay be paiTed concerning every one of them; and if any
one fliall think of any thing elfe, that is neceffary to he debated^
let her communicate it to Morrow : For we will fit de die in
diem till we have concluded the Seffion. Let us have four
Clerks, that may take down our Speeches; and two Chair-
Womcnj who ihall have the Power of giving Liberty to fpeak,
and of enjoining Silence : And let this Meeting be a Sampla
pf what may be expeded hereafter.
Diluculum^
t 471 ]
Diluculum : Or, The Early Rifing»
The Argument.
This CoUoquy is a very learned Chafiife7nent of Sloth j and an
Incitement to honejt Studies. A Joke of Nafica, to whortt
EnniusV Maid- ferv ant ^ by her Mafefs Order -^ told that he
'Was not at home. Philypnus luas fafl ajleep after Eight
a Clock in the Mor?iing., having fat up till Midnight^ f raft-
ing., gaming^ and talking merrily. Nephalius perfuades him
to rife fooner in a Morning. The Morning is the golden
Tart of the Day. The Sun does jiot pimie for Men to fleep
by it. The Soitl is rather to he taken Care of than the
Body. The Life of Ma?t is a Time af 'watching. It is in
our 0'VJ7i Power to lengthejz out our Lives. It is not luhol-
fotne to ftudy prefently after Dimier. We muft leave off an
evil Habit.
NEPHALIUS and PHILYPNUS:
Ne.T Wou'd have been glad to have met with you to Day,
■■• Philypnus; but your Servants deny'd that you were
at home. Ph. They did not tell you altogether falfe j I was
not at home, indeed, to you ; but I was never more at home
to my felf. Ne. What Riddle is this? Ph. You know the
old Proverb, I don't fleep to all: Nor can you forget that
pleafant Joke of Nafca-y to whom, when he would have
vifited his old Friend Enjiius, the Maid, by her Mailer's
Command, deny'd him to be at home. Nafca perceiv'd
how Matters went, and departed. Afterwards Ennius, in
his Turn, entering the Houfe of Nafca, asks the Boy whe-
ther his Mafter was within or not : Nafca cries aloud from
an inner Room, faying, I am not at home. Emiiusj know-
ing his Voice, cries, Art thou not an impudejit Eelloixt ? Dofi
think I doT^t kno'uj thee <when thou Jhak'fi ? Rather you,
fays Nafca, are the more impudent, ivho won't give Credit
to me my felf, when I believed your Servant. Ne. Per-
haps you were very bufy. Ph. No, in troth, I was moft
pleafantly at Leifure. Ne. Again you perplex me with
H h 4 ' ■ Riddles.
[ 472 ]
-. 'Riddles. Th. Why, then I'll fpeak plainly, and not call any
thing out of its Name. Ne. Say on. Fh. In fliort, I was fait
afleep. 1<!e. What fay'ft thou > wh it at pall 8 } when the S^n
rifes this Month before 4. Fh. The Sun is very welcome to
rife at Midnight, for all me ; truly I love to weep my belly-
full. Ne. But was this by Accident, or is it your common
Cuftom } Fh. Why, truly I'm pretty much us'd to it. N^. But
the Habit of Evil is moft pernicious. Fh. There's no Sleep
fo plea Pant as after Sun-rifing. Ne. Prithee, at what Hour do
you ufe to leave your Bed ? Fh. Why, fome time betwixt
Four and Nine. Ne. A very pretty Space of Time, truly I
a Woman of Quality is fcarce fo long a dreffing. But how
came you into this agreeable Method } Fh. Becaufe we
us'd to fpend moft Part of the Night in good Eating and
Drinking, Play, Merriment, and what not; and this Ex-
pence we repair by a good found Sleep in the Morning. Ne.
I fcarce ever fav/ a Prodigal more undone than thee. Fh.
■ It feems to me rarher Parfimony than Profufenefs ^ for in the
mean time, I neither burn my Candles, nor wear out my
Cloaths. Ne. Ridiculous Parfimony ! to deftroy Jewels that
thou may 'ft pteferve Glafs. The Philofopher was of quite
another Opinion, who, being ask'd what was the moft preci-
ous Thing, reply'd Tit?ie. Moreover, when it plainly ap-
pears, that the Morning is the beft Part of the whole Day,
you delight to deftroy the precioufeft Part of the moft pre-
cious Thing. Fh. h that deftroy'd which is giv'n to the Body ?
Ne. 'Tis rather taking away from the Body; which is then
beft affeded, moft lufty and ftrong, when 'tis refrefli'd by
timelv and moderate Sleep, and corroborated by early Rifmg •
Fh. Bat 'tis a pure pleafant thing to fleep. Ne. What can
be pleafant to him who has no Senfe of any thing } Fh.
Why, that alone is pleafing, to have no Senfe of Trouble.
Ne. At this rate, thofe are moft happy who fleep in their
Graves ^ for they are never difturbed v/ith troublefome
Dreams. Fh. They fay, the Body is fed very much by
Sleep. Ne. This is the Food of Dormice, and not of Men.
The Beafts, who are made only to eat, are cramm'd very fitly ;
but how does it relate to Man to heap up Fat, unlefs that
he may trudge on under the greater Burden ? Tell me now,
if you had a Servant, wou'd you have him fat and lumpifh,
or gay and fprightly, apt for any Employment ? Fh. But I
am no Servant. N^. No Matter ; 'tis enough for me, that
you had rather have one alert, and fit for Bufmefs, than a
Fellow ftoutlv cramm'd. P^. Certainly I wou'd. Ni?. Now,
Tlato fays. The Mind of a Man is the Man; the Body 710-
ehin^ more than the Manpon or ^njlrumeTtt. You'll cer-
tainly
[ 473 1
talnly confefs, I fuppofe, the Soul to be the principal Part
of a Man ^ the Body, only the Attendant of the Mind. Fh.
Be it fo, if you will. Ne. Since then thou wou'dil; not have
a Bel]y-o;ut for thy Servant, but rather one brisk and agile;
why then doft thou provide for thy Mind, a Minifter fat and
unwieldy? Th. I yield to Truth. Ne. Now fee another
Misfortune. As the Mind far excels the Bodyi fo you'll
confefs, that the Riches of the Mind far exceed the Goods
of the Body. Fh. What you lay is very probable. Ne.
But amongft all the Goods of the Mind, Wifdom holds the
chief Place. Th. I confefs it. Ne. For obtaining this, no
Time is more -fit than the Morning, vi'hen the new- riling
Sun gives frefli Vigour and Life to all Things, and difpeis
thofe Fumes which are exhaled from the SLomach,* which
are wont to cloud the Maniion of "^he Mind. Th. I don't
deny it. Ne. Now, do but confider what a Share of Learn-
ing you might obtain in thofe four Hours which you conrume
in unfeafonable Sleep. Fh. Trulv, a great Share I Ne. I
have experienced that more mav be donq at Study in one
Hour in the Morning, than in three after Noon ; and that
without any Detriment to the Body. Fh. I have heard as
much. Ne. Coniider this.furcher : If you fhoa'd bring inro
a grofs Sum the Lofs of each particular Day, what a vaft
deal would it amount to ! Fh. A great deal indeed ! Np.
He who heedielly confounds Money and jewels, is deenVd
a Prodigal, and has a Gmrdian appointed him: No\\', he
who deftroys thefe To much more precious Goods, is nor he
a Prodigal of a far deeper Dye? Fh. Certainly 'tis fo, it
v/e rightly weigh the Matter. Ne. Confider fanhcr what
'Plato writes. That there is nothing fairer^ rotbing viors ^
amiable than Wifdom j i-hich, if it could he fccn by corpo-
real Eyesj 'would raife to itflf an incredible Number of Ad-
mirers. Fh. But fh- is not capable of being fecn. "Ne. I
own Are is not with corporeal Eyes ; but fl^ie is to be feeii
with the Eyes of the Mind, which is the better Parr of Man.
And where the Love is incredible, there m.ufi: necefiarily be
thehigheft Pleafure, as often as the Mind enjoys fo plcahn:^
a Miftrefs. Fh. What you fay is very probable. Ne Go
now, if you think good, and barter this Enjoyment for Sleep,
that Image of Death. Fh. But in the mean time I lofe my
dear nofturnal Sports. Ne. Thofe Things are well loft, which
being worft are changed for the beft,'i]iamefjl for honour-
able, moft vile for the mofi; precious. He has h^pniiy loH:
his Lead who has changed it into Gold. Nature h^s ap- -
pointed the Night for Sleep ; the Sun arifin.? recnls -.ll the
ammal Species, and efpecially Men, to their Yeveral Oiiires.
They
[ 474 ]
T&tf/ nvho feep, ( faith St. Paul, i Thsjf. f. ) Jleep in the
It^ighf^ and they ivho are drunken-, are drunken in the
Night. Therefore, what can be more unfeemJy, than,
when all Animals rouT-e with the Sun, nay, fome even before
his Appearance, and as it were with a Song falute his com-
ing;; when the Elephant adores the rifmg Sun; Man only
fliou'd lie fnoring long after his Rifing. As often as his
golden Rays enlighten thy Chamber, does he not feem thus
to upbraid thee, as thou Heft fleeping? Fool! tuhy dofi thou
delight to deflroy the befi Fart of thy Life? I Jhine not for
this Purpofe, that you may hide yourfelves and fleep j but
that you may attend your honefi Employments. No Man
lights a Lamp to fleep by, but that he may purfue fome
ibrt of Labour ; and by this Lamp, the faireft, the moft re-'
fulgent of all Lamps, wretched Thou doft nothing but fnore.
Th. You declaim fmartly. Ne. Notfmartly, but truly. Come
on, you have often heard that oiHefadj'Tis too late to (pare
luhen all is fpent. Th. Very frequently ; for in the Middle
of the Pipe the Wine is beft. Ne. But in Life the firft Part,
that is to fay, Youth is beft. Th, Verily, fo it is. Ne. And
the Morning is the fame to the Day, as Youth is to Life.
Do" not they then ad: foolifhly, who fpend their Youth in
Trifles, and their Morning Hours in Sleep } Th. So it ap-
pears. Ne. Is there any Poffeffion v/hich may be compar'd
with a Man's Life ? Th. No, not the whole. Terfian Trea-
fure. Ne. Wou'dft thou not vehemently hate the Man, that
by evil Arts cou'd and wou'd curtail thy Years, and ihorten
thy Thread of Life ? Th. I'd rather do my Endeavour to
deftroy his Life. Ne. But I deem thpfe far worfe, and more
guilty, who voluntarily render their own Lives fhorter. Th.
I confefs it, if any fuch are to be found. Ne. To be
found ! 'Tis what all, who are like thee, do- Th. Good
Words, Man. Ne. The beft. Thus confider with your own
felf, whether Tliny has fpoken juftly or not, when he fays,
^11 Life is one continued Watching^ and he lives mofij who
employs the greatefi Tart of his Time in Study ? For Sleep
is a Kind of Death ; therefore the Poets feign it to come
from the infernal Shades ; and it is call'd by Homer, the
Coufin-German of Death j and fo, thofe who fleep, can
fcarce be number'd either amongft the Dead or Living ;
bu3 of the twoj they feem moft properly nam'd amongft
the Dead. Th. I am intirely of your Opinion. Ne. Now
tell me fairly, how much of Life do they cut off, who every
Day deftroy three or four Hours in Sleep ? Th. Truly,
a vaft deal. Ne. Wou'd not you efteem him as a God, if
there were an Alchymift> who cou'd find a Way to add ten
Years
[ 475 1
Years to the Length of your Life, and when you are advanc'd
in Years, reduce you to Youth and Vigour ? Fb. Ay, why
ihould I not ? Ne. And this fo divine Bleffing, thou may'ft
obtain from thy own felf Th. Which Way ? Ne. Becaufe
the Morning is the vigorous Youth ot the Day ; this Youth
flourifhes till Noon ; the Evening fucceeds by the Name of
Old -Age; and call Sun-fet the Article of Death. Frugality
is a handfome hicomej and never more neceilary than in this
Cafe. Now, has not he been a great Gainer, who has avoided
loling the greateft and beft Part of Life ? Th. All thefe
Things arc too true. Ne. How intolerably impudent the»
muftthey feem, who accufe Nature, and complain that the
Life of Man is fhort and little, when they themfelves volun-
tarily cut ofFfo great a Part of that little which Nature gave ?
Life is long enough, if Men would but ufeit prudently. Nor
has he made a fmall Progrefs, who knows how to do every
Thing inSeafon. After Dinner, we are fear ce half Men, when
the Body loaded with Meats, burdens and opprefles the Mind ^
nor is it fafe to excite, or draw up the Spirits from Nature's
Kitchen, the Stomach, where they are employ'd in the Bufi-
nefs of Concodion. After Supper, much lefs. But in the
Morning a Man is eiFedually, and all a Man, when his Body
is apt and fit for every Employment i when the Soul is
;aftive, and in full Force ; and all the Organs of the Mind
ierene, and in Tranquillity ; whilft it breathes a Part of that
divine Flatus (as one fays,) has a Relifh of its great Origi-
nal, and is rapt, or hurried on to commendable Actions,
Th. Truly, you harangue very elegantly. Ne. Agaviemnon^
in Homer J tells us, T/V unbecoming a Man of Counfel to Jleep
the nvhole Night. Flow much greater then the Fault, to
fpend fo much of the Day in Sleep ? Th. True ; but this
has Refpecl to a Man of Counfel, I am no General of an Army,
Ne. If there is any Thing more dear to you than your felf,
don't be mov'd, or afFecled by this Opinion of Homer. A
Brafier will rife before 'tis Light, only in hopes of fome poor
Advantage. And has not the Love of Wifdom Power to
rouze and ftir us up, that we may at leaft hear the ap-
proaching Sun calling us forth to Profit ineftimable ? Phyfici-
ans rarely give Phyfick but in the Morning. They know the
golden Hours, in which they may afTifi: the Body ; and fhall
we be ignorant of thofe precious Hours, in which we may
heal and enrich the Mind } Now, if thefe Things are of fmall
Weight with you, hear v/hat Solomon fays, Trov. viii. v. 17.
Wifdom, heavenly Wifdom herfelf fpeaks, Theywho feek vie,
early., fhall pid me. So in the holy Tfahns ^8, and 87. what
Praife and Commendation is these of the Morning Seafons !
[ 47<J ]
Jw the Morning the "Prophet extols the Mercy of the ILord ;
in the Morning his Voice is heard; his Prayers come before
God in the Morning. And, according to 'Luke the Evange-
liftj Chap. 6. The People, feeking from the Lord Cure and
Inftruition, fiock'd together to him early in the Morning.
Why doft thou figh, Philypnus ? Ph. I can fcarce refraiq
weeping, when I confider what a Wafte I have made of Life.
Ne. 'Tis all in vain to torment yourfelf about thofe things
which cannot be recall'd, but may neverthelefs be repair'd
in Time to come. Apply yourfelf to this j rather than in
vainly deploring what is paft, lofe ajfo fome part of the fu-
ture. Ph. You advife well. But long Habit has intirely
overcome me. Ne. Phy ! One Nail drives out another ;
and Cuftom is overcome by Cuflom. Ph. But 'tis difficult
to forego thofe things to which we have been long accu-
ftom'd. Ne. In the beginning, I grant j but a different Habit
firft lellens the Uneafinefi, anon changes it into the highefb
Pleafure ; fo that it won't repent you to have undergone a
fhort Difcipline. Ph. I am afraid 'twill never fucceed. Ne.
Why, truly, if you were feventy Years of Age, I would not
atteinpt to draw you from your wonted Courfe ; but, if I
guefs right, you are fcarce feventeen j and what is there that
that Age is not able to overcome, if there be but a willing
Mind ? Ph. I will attempt it, and endeavour of a Philypnus
to be made a Philologus, of a Lover of Sleep, a Lover of
Learning. Ne. If you do this, my Philypnus, I am very well
fatisfied, after a few Days, you will congratulate yourfelf, and
give me Thanks who ad vis d yoii.
N H # A-
[ 477 3
"^vV
<
NH*AAION STMnosiON.
The Sober Feafi.
The Argument.
The foher "Feafi produces Symbols ( Motto's j Devices ) learned
Arguments^ and other cwcipus Things. The Tatience of
Phocion. . The fufiice oj^^riftidesj 'who 'was forced wway
{from his own Country) ^ the Oflracifm : His great Pa-
tience. Socrates, a 'very patient Man. The Way of over-
coming Injuries. The Tatience of Czto. Hoau Diogenes
avenged himfelf upon an Enemy. The Saying of Phocion, ®
'when he had defended a 'wicked Man by his Fatrocijiy. De-
mocheres, the Nephe'w of Demofthenes, treats Philip of
Macedon unhandfomly. The Way of getti?ig a good Name.
The viitty Anf'wer of a certain Laconian Damfel^ whcft fhe
•was felling in an Au&io7i. The Moderation of Philip of
Macedon, ivhen three great Felicities befel him upon one
and the fame Day.
ALBERT, BARTHOLINE, CHARLES,
DENNIS, ^MILTUS, FRANCIS, GY-
RALDUS, JEROM, JAMES, LAURENCE.
jil. T\ T D you ever, in your Life, fee any Thing more plea-
■*-^ fant than this Garden ? Ba. I fcarce think that there £
is a pleafanter Spot of Ground in all the fortunatp Iflands. «
Ch. J can't but fancy myfelf viewing that Paradife that God
plac'd Adam in. Den. Even a Nefior or a Priamus might
grow young again, if they were here. Fr. Nay, if a Man
was dead, it would fetch him to Life again. Gy. If it was
poffible I would add to your Hyperbole, fe. Upon my
Word, all Things look Wonderful pleafant. ^a. In fiiorr,
this Garden ought to be dedicated with a drinking Match.
La. Our James [peiks much to the Purpofe. Al. This Place
has
[478 ]
Tias been formerly initiated with fuch Ceremonies, But I
would have you obferve by the Way, that I have nothing
here to make you a Dinner, except you'll be content with
a Collation without Wine. I'll treat you with Lettices with-
out either Salt, Vinegar, or Oil; here's not a Drop of Wine,
but what flows out of this Fountain. I have here neither
Bread ( to eat ivith the Sallad ) nor Cup ( to drink out oj )
And the Seafon of the Year is fuch, that it is more proper
for feeding the Eyes than the Belly. Ba. But I fuppofe you
have gotten playing Tables, or Bowls, we'll dedicate the
Garden with Playing, if we can't with Feafting. Al. Since
there is fuch a Set of jolly Fellows of us met together, I
have fomething to propofe, as to the Confecration of the
Garden, that, I am of Opinion, you'll confefs is far before
either Gaming or Banquetting. Ch. What's that ? Al. Let
every one furnifli his Quota, and I dare engage we fhall have
a noble. and delicate Feail. jjtfe'/. What can we furnifli,
that are come hither unprovfl^l? Al. Unprovided, who
have your Intellectuals fo well furnifhed ! Fr. We long to
heaj.- what you would be at. Al. Let every one produce the
neateit Obfervation, that his Week's Reading has furnifhed
® him with. Gy. Very well propofed j nothing can be more
agreeable to fuch Guefts, fuch an Entertainment, and fuch a
Place. Do you begin, we'll all folio v/ you. Al. If you
agree to it, I won't ftick out. I was mightily pleafed to day
to find fo Chriftian-lilvC a Sentence in a Man who was no
Chriflian ; it was that of Thocion-, a Man, than whom there
was not a more divine one, nor more regardful of the pub-
lick Utility in all Athens. When he had been invidioufly
fentenc'd to Death, and was about to drink his Poifon, being
ask'd by his Friends, what Meflage he had to fend to his
Children ; he anfwered, he only requir'd of them, tliat they
would ever bani/h this Injury out of their Memories. Ba.
You will (carce find an Example of fuch notable Patience
amongft either the Dominicans or Francifcans. And I'll
prefcnt you with one Inftance that is fomething like this,
tho' it does not come up to it. Arijiides was very like
Thocion for Integrity, fo that the common People gave him
the Surname of the jnfiy which Appellation raifed him fo
much Envy, that this good Man, that deferv'd fo well of
the Common-Wealth, was banifh'd for ten Years from his
native Country. When he underflood that the People was
offended at nothing but that Appellatio|i, tho' that had al-
ways been to their Advantage, he patiently fubmitted. Being.
in Banifliment, his Friends asking him what Punifhment
be wilVd to the ungrateful City, he reply'd, I 'wijh them no^
thingy
C 47<> 1
thing-, hut fo much Projperify, that they may never onci,
remember Ariftides. Ch. I wonder that Chriftians are not
afham'd of themfelves, that are in a Rage upon the Occa-
iion of every trifling Affront, and will have Revenge, coft io
what it will. The whole Life of Socrates.^ in my Opinion^
is but one continued Example of Temperance and Patience.
And that I may not be fcot-free, I'll mention one Inftance
that pleafes me above the reft. As he was going along tha
King's Highway, a faucy Fellow hit him a Slap on the Facej
Socrates faid nothing to him, but his Friends that were with
him, advifed him to be reveng'd on him. To which he
reply'd. What would you have me do to him ? They reply'd,
Arreft him in an Adlion of AfTault and Battery. A foolifli
Story indeed, fays he j What, fays he, fuppofe an Afs had
given me a Kick, muil I fue him upon the fame Adion,
and fubpoena you for Evidences of the Injury offered ? inti-
mating, that that faucy Fellow^was no better than an Afs ; and
that it was the Part of a mean Soul, not to be able to bear
fuch an Affront from a Numb'd-SkuU, as he would from a
brute Animal. The Roman Hiftory is not fb well ftored
with Inflances of Moderation, nor fo remarkable j for in
my Opinion, he does not deferve the Praife of Moderation,
that flrenuoufly labours to bring haughty Perfons under -'ub-
jedlion, and then fpares them when they are in his Power :
But yet I think it deferves to be related, what Cato the Elder
faidj when Lentulus fpit in his Face, and threw Snot in
it. He faid nothing to him but this, Hereafter I fhall have
an Anfwer ready for them that fhall fay, you are a Man
that have no Mouth {Os) for the Latins us'd to fay, that he
that has no Shame in him, has no 05- ,• fo that the Joke de-
Kends upon the double Meaning of Os (which fignifies the
louth and the Countenance.) ^m. One Man is pleas'd
with one Thing, and another with another. But among
Diogenes's Sayings, which are all excellent ones, none
charms me more than the Anfwer he made to one that
ask'd him, What was the heft Way to be revenged on an
Enemy ? Says he. By approving your felf an honefl good
Man. I can't but admire hov/ fo divine a Thought could
ever come into his Mind. And, methinks, the Saying of
Arifiotle is agreeable to St. FauVs Notion ,• who being; ask'd
by a certain Perfon, What Advantage his Philofophy afforded
him, anfwered him. That by reafon of it, he did thofa
Things voluntarily, which other Perfons did by Conltraint,
and for Fear of the Law ; For St. Taul reaches, that thofe
who are endued with the Love of Chrift, are not under the
Subjedion of the Law? in that they do more of their own
Accord^
1 480 ]
Accord, than the Law can influence them to do for Fear of
I'lmilliment. Fr. Our Saviour, when the ^eics murmured
flgainft him, becaufe he had Comraunion at the Table with
Publicans and Sinners, anfwered them. The whole have not
need of a Fhyjidan, hut thofe that are [ick. That which
Fhocion in Plutarch wittily anfwer'd, when he was repre-
hended becaufe he had patronized a Pcrfon infamous, and
of an ill Character, is not very different from this : Why
fhould I not, fays he, when no good Man ftands in need
of fuch a Patronage ? Gy. That is a Pattern of Chriftian
Goodnefs, and according to the Example of God himfelf, to
do good both to Good and Bad, as much as may be; For
he caufes his Swi to jhbie upon the juji and tmjufl. And per-
haps an Exarnple of Moderation in a King will be more ad-
mirable. When Demochares-) the Nephew of Demofihenes.y
was Pent AmbafTador to Philip King of Macedon ; and
having obtain'd of him what he defired, being about to have
his Audience of Leave, was coarteoully ask'd by the King,
if there was any Thing elfe he requefted of him ; he an-
fwered, Yes, that he would hang himfelf This unhandfome
Anfwer was an Argument of Hatred : He to whom this Af-
front was offered was a King, and a worthy one too j but for
all that, he did not fall into a Paffion, but only turning to
the AmbalTidor's Retinue, faid. Do you report this to the
People of Athens^ and then let them judge, which has the
greater Soul of the two, I who heard this patiently, or he
who fpoke it faucily. Where are now our Monarchs, who
think themfelves equal to the Gods themfelves,* and for a
fingle Word fpoken over a Glafs of Wine, will imme-
diately wage War? The Thirft of Glory is very impe-
tuous, and many are carry 'd away by the Violence of it. One
of that Number put the Queftion to Socrates^ Which was
the fliorteft Way to get a good Reputation ? To whom he
anfwer'd. If you fhall behave yourfelf like fuch an one, as
you would be accounted to be. Ja. In troth I don t know
what could be faid more concifely and to the Purpofe. A
good Name is not to be obtain'd by wifliing for, but is a
Concomitant of Virtue, as Infamy is of Improbity. You
have been admiring of Men ,• but the 'Laconian Maid
charm'd me, who being to be fold at a Sale, the Perfon
who was to buy her, came to her, and ask'd her. If I buy
you, will you be honeft.? She anfwered. Yes, I will, whe-
ther you buy me or not^ intimating, that fhe retain'd an
Aifeftion to Honefty, not upon the Account of any other
Perfon, but was honeft of her own Inclination, and upon
this Notion, that Virtue was its own Reward. J^a. A very
manly
[481 ]
manly Saying, indeedj for a JVIaid I But after all, this, in mf
Opinion, is an Example of Conftancy againft Fortune, flat-
tering to the utmoll degree j That when three extraordinary
Felicities were related to Fhi/ip of Macedon on the fame Day,
That he had won the Pri7e in the Olympic Games, that his
General Tarmeno had overcome the hardans in a Battle,
and that his Wife Olympia was brought to bed of a Son;
lifting his Hands up to Heaven, he pray'd that God would
be pleas'd that fo mighty a Profperity might be expiated by
ia fmall Adverfity. Al. Now-a-d^ys there is no Profperity
fo great, that any one fears the Invidioufnefs of Fortune;
but is fo puffed up, if any good Luck happens to him, as
if [i] Nemefis were either dead, or at leait deaf. Well, if*
you like this Diririer, this Garden fhall entertain you as often
as you will, fince you have confecrated it with this Con-
verfation, that is no lefs pleafant, than profitable. B0. In
(hort, Apitin's himfelf could not have furnifh'd a more dainty
Entertainment ; fo that if you like what we have brought,
you may depend upon our Company often, which things in-
deed are not worth your hearing, but are fuch as came into
our Minds without any Premeditation : But when we have
Time to think before-hand, we'll afford you fomething more
exquifite. Al. You fhall be fo much the more welcome.
[13 Nemejif, the Goddeft of Reven^.
I i . ■'^' Th
r 48^' I
^- M^ ^ M:. M:. ^. ^ 4|t ^s, 45: S^ 4^
ne NO 'it ABLE AKt
The Argument.
Ars riotoria derides the main Boajiingnefs of a bold "Pretenei
of a certain Book, promifing the Kno<vjledge of Languages
and Science in fourteen^ Days time. A good Apprehenfw^i
and Method is the mofi compendious Way to attain Arts.
-' (i) To love Studies. (2.) To admire them. (3.) To take
' Tiotice liihen Honour is done to Men of Learning. Thofe
that have not a retentive Memory j mufi follonv their StU"
dies the mere clofely. (i.) Let it he your frf Care throughly ,
■ to apprehend the Matter. (2.) 21? repeat it over v^ith your
Jelf (3.) To render the Mind tame., that it may dnvell
upon Thought j for a fckle Mind is unfit for Literature.
(4O To keep compa7jy with learned Men. In a wordy
Carey Love^ and Ajfiduity are the hefi Arts of helping ths'
Memory.
DESIDERIUS, ERASMUS.
!)£'. TJ O W* do you fucceed in your Studies, Erafmus t
^-*- Er. But very {lowly j but I fhould make a bettef
Froficiency, ' if I could obtain one thing of you. De. You'
may obtain any thing of rae, provided it be for your Good ;
do but tell me what it is. Er. I believe there is nothing of
the raoft hidden Arts, but what you are acquainted with.
De. I wifli I were. Er. I am told there is a certain com-
pendious Art, that will help a Man to accomplifh himfelf
with all the liberal Sciences by a very little Labour. De.
What is that you talk of ? Did you ever fee the Pook ?/
Er. I did fee it, and that v/as all, having no body to inftruft
me in the Ufe of it. De. What was the Subjedt of the Book ?
Er. It treated of various Forms of Dragons, Lions, Leo-
pards ; and various Circles, and Words written in them,
(bme in Greek, fome in Latin, and fome in Hebrew, and
other barbarous Languages. De. Pray, in how many Days
?ime did the Title-page promife you the Knowledge of the
Art;?
- C 483 ]
Arts and Sciences ? Er. In fourteen. , Be. In truth a very
■ noble Promife. But did you ever know any body that ha'5
become learned by that notable Art ? Br. No. De. No,
nor no body ever did, or ever will, till we can fee an Al-
chymift grow rich. Er. Why, is there no fuch Art then?
I wifh v/ith all my Heart there was. Be. Perhaps you do,
becaufe you would not be at the Pains which is requir'd to
become learned. Er. You are right. Be. It feem'd meet
to the divine Being, that the common Riches, Gold, Jewels,
Silver, Palaces, and Kingdoms, fhould be beftow'd on the
flothful and undefervingj but the true Riches, and fuch
as are properly our own, mufl be gotten by Labour. Nor
ought we to think that Labour troublefome, by which fo
valuable a thing is procured ^ when we fee a great many
Men run thro' dreadful Dangers, and work their way thro'
unimaginable Labours, to get temporary Things, and fuch
as are really vile too, if compar'd to Learning ; and do not
always attain what they ilrive for neither. But indeed the
Pains that Studies cofb, are mingled with a great deal of
Sweetnefs, if you make but a little Proficiency in 'em. And
again, it is for the moil part in your own Power to cut off
the greateft part of the Tirefomnefs of attaining them. Er.
How is that to be done ? Be. In the firft place, by bring-
ing your Mind to the Love of Studies. And fccondly, to ad-
piire 'em. Er. How muft that be done } Be. Confider
how many Learning has enrich'd, how many it has promoted
to the higheft Honours : Then again, confider with your
felf, how great the Difference is betv/een a Man and a Beaflr.
Er. You give very good Advice. Be. Then you ought to
tame, and bring your Mind to be confident with itfelf j and
to take pleafare in thofe things that bring Profit rather than
Pleafure. For thofe things that are honourable in themfelves,
altho' they are fomething troublefom in the Beginning, yet
they grow pleafant by Ule j and by that means you will give
the Mailer lels Trouble, and you will more eafily make a
Progrefsj according to the Saying of Ifocrates, which de-
ferves to be written in Gold Letters on the Cover of your
Book J 'Efltv nj 0s\e(jt.et^i 'iait rnhviia^it If thou be dejirous to
learnj thou Jbait learn many things -weil. Er. I am quick
enough at Apprehenfion, but I prefently forget what I have
learned. Be. Then you tell me your Veffel is leaky, Er.
You're much about the Matter ; but what Remedy is there
for it ? Be. Why, you mull flop the Chinks that it don't
tun out. Er. What muft I ftop 'em with ? Be. Not with
, Mofs, nor Mortar, but with Diligence, He that learns
Words, and does mi underftand the Meaning of 'em, fooa"
li % fOrgetf
r 484 ]
forgets *em ; For Words, as Hojner fays, have Witigs, anti
^afily fly away, unlefs they be kept down by the Weight o£
the Meaning. Therefor e let it be your firft Care thorowly
to underftand the Meaning of them, and then frequently
revolve them in your Mind, and repeat them i and then, as
I have faid, you ought to break your Mind, that it may be
aible to ufe Application as often as is necelTary ; for that
Mind that is fo wild, that it can^ be brought to this, is not
fit for Learning. Er. I know too well how hard a Matter
that is. De. Whofoever has fo voluble a Mind, that it can-
ilot hx itfelf upon any Thought, he neither can attend long
on the Perfon teaching, nor x^x what he has learn'd in the
Memory. An Impreffion may be made even upon Lead;
becaufe it is fixed j but no Impreffion can be fet upon Water
or Quickfilver, becaufe they are fluid. But if you can but
bring your Mind to this, if you converfe conilantly with
Men of Learning, whofe Difcourfes do daily produce fa
many things worthy notice, you may learn a great deal with
but little Pains. Er. That is very right. De. For befides
the Table-talk, their daily Converfation after Dinner, you
hear eight fine Sentences, colle(3:ed out of the mofl: approv'd
Authors i and after Supper as many. Now do but reckon
up v^hat a Sum this will amount to in a Month, and how
many more in a Year. Er. A very large Sum, if I could
but remember them all. De. And then, again, when you
hear nothing but true Latin fpoken, what hinders you, but
that you may learn Latin in a very few Months, when Lads>
who have no Learning, do learn the French or Spajtifb Tongue
in a very little Time ? Er. I will take your Courie, and try
whether I can bring this Mind of mine to fubmit to the
Yoke of the Mufes. De. I know no other notable Art, but
Induftry, Delight, and Afliduity.
I -
fhi
C 4Si ]
The SERMON, orMERDARDUS.
The Argument;
Here Erafmus inveighs agrijtfi a certain Francifcan, 'whovi he
■calls (Merdardus) a jhitten 'Divine., that had carp'd at his
Verfion of the Virgin Mary'/ Song calVd Magnificat. He
Jefcribes the Man's Perfon luho had calPd Erafmus Devil,
and caviird at his tranjlating ity quia refpexic Dominus
ad hum ilita tern aDcillse fuse, nnhen the Virgin Mary vjas
higher in Dignity than the Angels. Whether or not viliras
Anpwer-s to tw Tv.'zsuvaijfi- Refpicere ad and afpicere,
ijoherein they differ. Reipicere aliquem and Refpicere ad
aliquem. Humilitas is us'd by the Latins, as *well in.
refped to the Mind-, as the Co?idition. The Place in Col.
ii. i8. is explain dy as alfo James i. 9, 10. The D'^fferejice
hetvjeen •nn.'^iivtoffii and Tni^eivu^^^rnvvi- The Tenor of the
Song itfelf fljenvs that the Virgin f peaks of her own Un-
■nuorthinejsy ivhich Erafmus elegantly explains. The fiupid
Ignorance of the Monks j voho [ay Veftimenta for Veftes :
A. Crew of fancy Knaves, that make even Kings ft and in
' iAVie of them.
HILARY and LEVINUS.
Bil. f^O O D God i what Monfters there are in the
^^ World ! What, Men in holy Orders to be afham'd
of notliing .! why certainly they think they are talking to
Mufhrooms, and not to Men. L.ev. What's that which
Hilary mutters to himfelf? I fancy he's making Verfes.
Hil. What would I give, had I but the flopping of that
Babbler's nafty Mouth with a Turd ? ILev. I'll fpeak to
him. How now ? what, Hilary not merry ! Hil. You're
come in very good Time, Levinus^ for me to difcharge my
felf of this Uneafinefs too. L,ev. If you difcharge your
Stomach, I had rather you fhould do it into a Bafon than
upon me. But prithee, what's the matter, and where have
^ou been ? Hil. Been ! I have been hearing a Sermon. Lev.
iut what ihould a Poet concern himfelf with Sermons for ?
113 Hilt
C 486 ]
Bil. I have no Averfion to holy Ducies, but I have happen'd
to drop into this Performance, which is to be call'd To iri
the Senfe that Virgil calls Avarice fo : But it is fuch fort of
Billingfgate Parfons a§ thefe, that are the Occalion that I
leldom go to Church. Lev. But where v/as this Sermon
preach'd ? Hil. In the Cathedral. Lev. What, in the Af-
ternoon .? Men comnionly take a Nap after Dinner. Hil.
I wifh ail that were hearing that Babbler had been afleep,
for he v/as fcarce fi^ to preach to a Flock of Geefe. Lev.
A Goofe is a noify Creature. But they fay St. Francis once
preach'd to a Sifirerhood of little Birds, who heard him with
a great deal of Attention. But prithee tell me, do they ufe
to preach on Saturdays ? Hil. Yes, they do in Honour of
the Virgin Mary j for Chrift's Day is on Sunday, and it is
meet the Mother fhould be ferv'd firft. Lev. What was the
Text ? Hil. He went thro' the Song of the Virgin Mary.
Lev. That's a very common Argument. Hil. The fitter for
him that preach'd upon it, for I believe he never learn'd
any Argument but this j as they fay there are fome Priefts
who can fay no part of the Common Prayer, but the
Service for the Dead. Lev. Well then, let him be calfd
the Magnificat Preacher, or if you will, the Magjiif.cata-
rian. But what fort of a Fellow is he .? what Habit does
he wear ? Hil. He's a Wolf in Sheep's Cloathing. Lev.
What Houfe did he come out of? Hil. The Vrancifca-tis.
Lev. How fay you, a Francifcan ? what, one of that holy
Order .? It may be he is one of thofe that are call'd Gau~
dcjites, that wear Garments of a brown Colour, whole Shoes,
ia white Girdle j and make no Scruple (I tremble to fpeak it)
to touch Money with their bare Fingers. Hil. Nay, none
of them, I'll alTure you ; but of thofe that call themfelves
ObfervaniSj that wear Afli-colour'd Garments, Hempen Gir-
dles, cut and flafh'd Shoes, and would rather commit Mur-
der than touch Money without Gloves. Lev. It is no ftrange
thing for a Nettle to grow in a Rofe-bed ; but who brought
this Fool upon the Stage .^ Hil. You'd fay (o the rather, if
you were but ro fee the Buffoon. He was a fwindging great
Fellow, with a red Face, a paunch Gut, and a hopper Arfe :
You would take him to be a Mafter of the Science, and one
that I verily believe drinks more than one Pint of Wine at a
Meal. Lev. But how can one come by fo much Wine,
that has no Money to buy it ? Hil. King Ferdinand allows
them four Pints a Day out of his Cellar. Lev. A Bounty
indeed very ill beflow'd : But it may be he was a Man of
Learning. Hil. Nothing in the World but Impudence and
.KoJfe, Lev. But how came Ferdinand to be fo much out
~ of
t 4«7 3
^fthe way, as to beftow his Bounty upon a Blockhead?
Hil. Why, to tell you in brief, his pious Inclination and
bounteous Difpofition led him afide j he was recommended
to him, and he was one of them that carried his Head upon
his right Shoulder. Lev. So Chrift hung upon the Crofs.
But was there a great Auditory ? Bil. How could it be other-
wife at Augsburg-, in the great Church there, where there
was fo great a Concourfe of Sovereign Princes, whom tlie
Emperor Charles had drawn together from all Parts of Ger-
many, Italy ■) Spam and England ? And belides, there were
a great many Men of Learning prefent at the Sermon, efpe-
cially of the Courtiers. Lev. I ihould wonder if fuch a Swine
ifhould produce any thing worthy of fuch an Auditory. H//.
I'll affiire you he did produce a great many things worthy of
himfelf. Lev. What were they, prithee ? but firft, pray tell
me his Name. Hil. That is not convenient. Lev. Why lo,
Hilary ? Hil. I don't love to gratify fuch Fellows. Lev.
Prithee hold thy tongue : Is that a gratifying of them to
expofe 'em? Hil. It is the greateft Gratification in the
World to them to become noted, be it by what Means it
will. Lev. Well do but tell me the Name, I won't mention it
again. Hil. He is call'd Merdardus.- Lev. Merdardus ! phoo,
I know him very well ; he's the very fame Man that lately at an
Entertainment call'd our Erafmus a Devil. Hil. He did fo : but
however, he was taken up for it ■■, for thofe that were the moit
favourable to him, took it to be the EfFed: of his Wine, and
look'd upon it accordingly. Lev. But what Excufe had he
when he was reprov'd for it ? Hil. He faid he did not fpeak
it ferioufly. Lev. Serioufly ! how fhould he, when he had
neither Serioufnefs nor Senfe in him } Hil. But it is, in my
Opinion, and alfo of all learned Men, an unfufFerable thing>
that this nafty Fellow ihould fet forth his nafty Ware fo pub-
lickly, in fo venerable a Place, before fuch an Auditory,
and in the hearing of fo many great Princes. Lev. I am
with child to hear what it was he faid. Hil. He foolifhly
raved againfl our Erafmus, faying a great many fcurvy
things of him, the Subftance of which was as follows : There
is, fays he, in our Days a new up-ftart Dodor call'd Eraf-
mus : My Tongue fail'd me, I would have faid Afmus.
Then he inform'd the People what Afinus fignify'd in the
German Tongue. Lev. A very comical Fancy I Hil^ Was
it fo very comical, do you think ? I think it was rather very
fooliih. Lev. Was it not very comical that fuch an Afs as
. he fliould call any body Afs, and much lefs Ev afinus ? 1 am
confident, had Erafmus been there, he would not have for-
f3Qra laughing. Hil. In truth, he refembles an Afs as much
I i 4 by
C 488 ]
by his Stapidity, as he does by the Colour of his Cloaths,
L-ev., I believe all Arcadia does not produce an Afs that
is fo much of an Afs, o" better deferves to be fed with Hay
than he does. Hil. In fhort, he is Apuleius turnd infide
out j for Apuleius hid a Man under the Form of an Afs,
but this Fellow hides an Afs under the Shape of a Man.
Lev. Tn iliort, we make fb many of thefe AflTes pamper'd
with Wine and Dainties, that it's no wonder if they bite and
kick all that come near them. Hil. This Dr. Ajs, fays he,
prefumes to correct the Magnifcat, notwithftanding it is a
Song of the holy Spirit's own inditing, pronounced by the
Mouth of the moft holy Virgin herfelf Lev. I know the
Proverb of the Brothers. Hil. And then he fets it out in
Words, as tho' it was the utmoft Pitch of Blafphemy. Lev,
Now my Heart akes for fear of the Crime committed.
Hil. Why, he faid Erafinus had trandated that which the
Church ufes in the Litany in thefe Words : ^?<? refpexit
J^onmuis humilitatem ancillce fua^ thus, ^i refpexit vilita-
Um ancilla fua— — 'Becauje the Lord hath regarded the Low-
linsjs of his Hand-maid :, he has tranflated it. The Lord hath
regarded the Vilenefs of his Hand-maid. And that Word
founds worfe in High-Dutch^ than it does in Latin. Lev.
Who will not own that it were a horrid Blafphemy for any
one to call the moft holy Mother of Chrift (who was
higher in Dignity tlian the Angels themielves) a vile Hand-
maid ? Hil. Why, fuppofe any one fliould call the Apoftles
themfelvcs unprofitable Servants ? Lev. I would find Fag-
gots td burn fuch a Blafphemer. Hil. What if any one
fhould fay that famous Apoftle Taul was unworthy the
Name of an Apoftle ? Lev, I would have him burnt for
aHeretick. Hil. And yet Chrift himfelf, that Teacher who
cannot be refuted, taught his Apoftles to fpeak after this
manner : lVhe?t you h'ave done ivhatfoever is comina7ided
youy fay-, We are unprofitable Servants. And St. Taulj not
unmindful of this Command, fays of himfelf, I am the
leaf of all the Apoftles, a7td not ivorthy the Name of art
Apoftle. Lev. Ay, but when godly Men fay fuch things of
tbemfelves, it is their Modefty, than which nothing is more
well-pleafing to God : But if any body eife fhould fay fuch
tilings of them, efpecially fuch as are gone to Heaven, it
would be Blafphemy. HiL You have made out the Matter
finely : then if Era/mus has faid that the adorable Virgin was
a vile Handmaid of the Lord's, there is no body but would
fay this was impioufly fpoken. But inafmuch as fhe Ibeaks
of herfelf after that manner, it is for her Glory, and fur-
jcihes us with au Example of Mo4efty i ^ecaufe as what-
" " '" • - " foever
[ 48<) 3
foever we are, we are by the Grace of God; fo the greater
any Perfon is, the more humbly he ought to behave himfelf.
"Lev I agree with you fo far. But thofe Perfons, when
they fay they corred, intend to corrupt or falfify. But then
we ought to fee, whether the Word vilitas anfwers to the
Greek word that Luke made ufe of. Hil. For that very
Purpofe [ made hafte from the Sermon, to confult the Text.
Lev. Pray let me hear what you gather'd thence. Hil. The
Words which Luke., by the Infpiration of the Holy Spirit,
writ v/ith his holy Finsjers, are thus, %Tt i7nChi-\.iv ItH ^
rtLmivuffjf >? /sAijj twni our Erafmus has tranliated, G^ia.
refpexit ad humilitatem ancilla jua. He only adds the Pre-
pofition, which Luke himfelf did not leave out; which is
no inelegant Lathi, nor is fuperfluous as to the Senfe. Te-
rence in Tbormio fpeaks in the fame Form, Rejpice ad me.
But in the Annotations we find, Luke rather faid, affice ad
w^, than refpice ad 7ne. Lev. Why then, is there any Dif-
ference between refpiccre and ajpicere ? Hil. Not very
much ; but there is fome : He refpicif, who, turning his
Head, looks at thofe things that are behind him ; He ajpi-
citj who fimply looks upon. As in Terence, Fhadra looks
upon Thais coming out of Doors, faying, Totus, Tarmeno,
tremo horreoque pofiquam afpexi banc. But the Brother
Charea fpeaks thus, Cum hue rejpicio ad Virginem ; for he
had turned himfelf toward the old Man, and when he had
done, turned his Body back again to the Maid. But yet
fometimes refpicere is ufed, for to have regard to, or care
of any thing, either coming on us, or that is prefent : So
the Satyrift ufes it;
Refpicere extremte jujjif fpatia ultima vita.
For Death follows us as preffing upon our Backs, at which
we look back as often as we think of it. And Terence fays,
Rejpice feneSfutem fuam : Therefore he, that being intent
upon any thing elfe, does not take care of his Children, is
faid non refpicere illos : And on the other hand, he that
throwing off other Cares, turns his Thoughts this way, is
very elegantly faid refpicere. But God, at one View, fhes
all things paft, prefent, and to come ; but yet in the holy
Scripture he fpeaks to us after the manner of Men. He is
faid averfari thofe whom he rejedts, refpicere thofe whom
he bellows his Favour upon, after having feemed to negledt
them for fome time. But Luke had expreffed this more
fully, if he had faid dmCKi^-iv ; now we read it i7nCM4iv :
|?iit read which you \viilj the Senfe is much the fame. Lev,
But
[ 45>o ]
^^ut then the Prepofition repeated feems to be fuperfluous?
Kil. It is certain the Latins fpeak in this manner ^ Accejjit ad
meyappuHt animum ad fcribendum. I don't think the Prepo-
fition is fuperfluoLis in this Sentence : For, he may be faid
rejpkere, who happens to look back, directing his Sight to no
particular Objed j but when it is expreffed refpexit ad me,
there is a peculiar Favour of the Perfon's being willing to
fuccour this or that Perfon expreffed. So afpicimus-, things
fometimes that come in the way by chance, that we have no
certain care of, nay, even thofe things that we have no mind
to fee : But whofoever ad aliquem ajpkit) is in a peculiar
manner^ attent to that which he beholds. And then again,
'^fpictmus^ v/e behold many things at once ; but not afpicimusy
we have regard to many things at once. Therefore, the Holy
Spirit defigning to fignify to us a lingular Favour toward the
Holy Virgin, thus expreffes it by her own Mouth, ^ia re-
fpexit ad humilitatem aitcilla fua. He turns away his Eyes
from tliofe that are lifted up, and great in their own Opinions,
and fixes them upon her who is very low in her own Eyes.
Nor is it to be doubted, but there were a great many learn-
ed, mighty, rich, and noble Perfons, who hoped for the
Mejjiah to come of their Stock : But, God defpifing them,
turn'd the Eyes of his moft merciful Favour upon a Virgin
of an obfcure Charadter, mean in the World, marry'd to a
Carpenter, and not inrich'd with any Off-fpring. Lev. But,
I hear nothing all this while of vilitas [vilenefs.] Hil. That
was the Sycophant's own Word, and none of Erafmus's.
Lev. But, perhaps, he ufes the word vilitas in the Annota-
tions .Hil. No not at all. Indeed, upon the word Tcfmivum
he very modeftly obferves thus, Ut intelligas parvitatemjnon
animi virtutem j jitq^ue fenfusy etji jim infinia ancilla-) tamen
non e(l averfatus ?ne Dominus : That thou mayfl underfiand
it of Meamiefs, not of the Virtue of the Mind ; and the
Meaning rnufi be, altho^ 1 be a very mean Handmaid, yet
the Lord hath not difdained me. Lev. If this is true, and
fo pious, what is it that thefe wild Affes bray at ? Hil. Why,
it is Ignorance of the Latin Tongue that makes them caufe
this Difturbance. Humility, with the Antients, who fpokq
inoft corredly, did not fignify that Virtue of the Mind that
is oppofite to Arrogance, and is call'd Modefty, but a meaner
fort of Condition ; in that Senfe that we call ignoble, poor,
private, and defpifed Perfons, humiles, as if we fliould fay
hlimz repentes. And, as when fpeaking to great Perfo'^
nages, we fay. We entreat your Highnefs to do me the Fa-
vour ; fo they, who fpeaking of themfelves, would extenu-^
ace their own Circumftances^ ufe to fay. We pray, that; out
• " of
[ 491 1
,of your Humanity, you would affift our hum'tlitatem [low
eftare.] For, the Emphafis of Pronouns Primitive carries itj
it oftentimes a fort of Arrogancy : As, I. fay, I will caufe.
So that the Maiden two ways very modeftly both extenuates
her own Condition, and extols the Munificence of the divinp
Being j not being content to ftyle herfelf a Handmaid, but
alfo a humile one, one of the meaneft Circumftances. Ac-
cording to the old Proverb, there Is Dijference in Serva7its ^
fo in Maid-Servants, one is better than another, as to the
Dignity of their Office : A Waiting-Gentlewoman is more
honourable than a Laundry-Maid. L-ev. But I wonder that
Merdardus Oioald not be acquainted with that Form -of Ex-
preffion, feeing I myfelf have often heard the Francifcans
thus fpeaking, mea parvitas [my Meannefs] gives you
Thanks for this noble Entertainment. Hil. Some of them
would not be out of the way if they faid mea pravitas [my
Naughtinefs.] But, becaufe the Greek word Tci.'setvo<p^avv»
feems to exprefs fometliing more than the Latin word Mo-
dejiia, Chriftians have chofe rather to ufe the word Humi-
litas [Humility,] than Modeftia [Modefty,] that is^, they
had rather fpeak fignificantly than elegantly : For, he is faid
to be modeft, that thinks moderately of himfelf j arrogating
jiothing to himfelf more than he deferves. But the Com-
mendation of yaTTftyoip^iruVw, [humility,] belongs only to him
that afcribes left to himfelf than he hath. Lev. But then
there is Danger, while we affed to be modeft, we happen
to be vain. Hil. Howfo.? Lev. Why, if P^;/^/ fpoke Truth,
in faying, I am not nvorthy to be called an Apofile j and if
Mary faid truly, that pe toas a mean Handmaidy that is, one
of the meaneft Circumftances j then, they run the hazard
of Lying, who fet them out in fo magnificentTitles. Hil. My
good Friend, here's no great Danger in that j for, when we
iet out good Men, or Women, with Praifes, in that we fpeak
forth the Goodnefs of God ro them ; but when they debafe
themfelves, they have an Eye to what their ov/n Strength
and Merits are, if it were not for the Grace of God. Noc
is it of neceffity a Lye, if any one does not lay claim to what
he has j if he fpeaks as he thinks, it can at moft be but a
Miftake, it can't be call'd a downright Lye : And God is
pleafed when we are in this Error. Lev. Faulj who denies
that he ivas ivorthy to be called an Apofile j in another place
fpeaks very magnificently of himfelf, recounting his Perfor-
mances ; I have^ faith he, laboured more than all-, and thofe
'who feem to be fomethijigj have added nothing to V2e : Whereas
we don't read the holy Virgin faid any thing of this na-
ture. Hil. ButP^«/ calls tbefe Performances his Infirmities,
by
C 4^^ ]
by wtiicb the Power of God was raanifefted ; and likewife,
calls the mention of them Folly, to which he was compell'd
by the VVickednefs of fome falfe Apofties, who had render'd
it necelTary for him to lay claim to his Apoftolical Authority j
not that he delighred in human Glory, but becaufe it was
expedient for the .Gofpel, the Difpenfation of which was
committed to him. The Virgin had not the fame Reafon ;
{he had not the Office of preaching the Gofpel committed
to her. Befidss, the utmoft Decency and Mouefty became
ber, as a Woman, as a Virgin, and as the Mother of Jejus.
Now 1 come to the Original of this Error. They that do
not underilarid LMthi^ think Humility fignifies nothing but a
notable Modefty j when it is often made ufe of as to Place
or Condition, and not as to any Virtue of the Mind ^ and
fometimes it is fo apply'd to the Mind, as to fignify that which
is blame-worthy. 1.6"i;. Vv^hat, in the holy Scrip :ures? HiL
Yes. Here's ^ Place for you in the Epiftle ot Vaul to the
Colofjiansy Chap. ii. Ver. j8. het no Maji [educe you in a.
'voliivtary Humility and PForJJjipping of Angels. Nor is it in
•this Place h) laTTiivatni, which is the Word that is in xheVir-
gifi& ScMg, but cv TUTnivotp^avva- The Place, I confefs, has
Ibmething of Difficulty in it '; but I take that to be the genuine
Senfe of it, that learned Men have accurately given it : Be
j.e net cf [o low and abje£i a Mind-) as having once dedicated
jo.urfelves to Chrijl, the only Author of Salvation-, to fujfer
jourfel'ves to be perfuaded to hope for Solvation froin Angchy
whom fome pretend to have appeared to them. Be ye of
fo high a. Mind, as that if any Angel, who really came from
Heaven, fhould preach any other Gofpel than that Chrift
hath delivered, let him be accurfed, as a wicked Angel, and
an Enemy to Chrift : Much lefs is it fit, that you fhould
foe of fach abjed: Minds, as to fuffer yourfelves to be led
away from Chrift by their feigned Apparitions. To hope
for Salvation from Chrift alone, is Religion ,• to exped: it
from Angels, or Saints, is Superftition. Taul therefore
means, that it is the part of an abjedl Mind, and not that
exalted Mind of Chrift, to fwerve afide to the fiditious Ap-
paritions of Angels ; and it is the part of a mean Mind to be
led about by every Body's Perfyafion. .Here you fee, that
T^imvfx^e^mm is ufed in a bad Senfe. 'Lev. \ fee it. HH.
Again, in the fame Chapter, After the Commandments and
Doctrines of Me-a-, ixihich thi?igs have indeed a Sheio ofWif^
dom in iVill-Worfnp and Humility. Here again, rci7nipo(p£fm!m
is ufed in a bad Senfe. Lev. It is plain. Hil. Again, ia
1 Fet. V it is ufed for that Virtue which is contrary to
Pride, ^ 7(i7niV9^^Tjn lyyjoy^ibTa,^^, for which we read, h
ilQathe4
I A95l
chathed whh Humility. And a?jain, in the 2.d of Thilibpfons'y
Lowlifiefs of Mind let every one ejteem another better thayi
htmfelf. Lev. You have made it out, that 7AiseiVo(pg^mvn is
ufed both ways, when the 'Romans ufe viodejHu oniy by
way of Commendation j but can you prove that TAT^iUaatf is
ufed for Modefty ? Hil. There is no Abfurdity in uling of it
fo. T'here is nothing hinders but that we may attribute
Submijjion and Lo-wlinefs, to the Mind : But whether or na
it be fo ufed in the holy Scriptures, I cannot tell. Lev.
Confider if St. James ufes it in that Senfe or not, Jajnes i.
9, 10. Let the Brother of low degree rejoice in that be is
exaltedj but the rich in that he is made k-w. Hil. In that
Place it is 4* 7*'weim(mf not Twretvop^gyvn- And if you wiH
needs have it, that here Humility is taken for Modefty, ic
follows of confequence, that we muft take Exaltation for
Pride j and then arifes a twofold Abfurdity. For, as he is
no modeft Man that boafts of his Modefty, and brags of
himfelf ; fo alfo he is doubly arrogant that glories in his
Pride. Lev. What then does the Apoftle mean ? Hil. He
commands Equality among Chriftians. The poor Man is faid
to be low, in that he is of a meaner Fortune j the rich Man
is faid to be high in the Eye of the World, becaufe of the
Splendor of his Fortune. This rich Man debafes himfelf to
the Condition of a poor Man, and the poor Man is raifed
to be equal with the rich Man. They have both of them
fomething to glory in j the one rejoices in liis helping the
Neceflity of the Poor with his Riches :, the other glories
in the Name of Chrift, that he has infpired fuch a Spirit
into the Rich. Lev. But all this while the rich Man enjoys
the Commendation of his Modefty too. Hil. Perhaps he
may i but it does not thence follow, that TaWmw; fignifies
Modefty. For there are fome Perfons who beftow a great
deal upon the Poor, that they m.ay gain a good Name among
Men. But indeed, both of them may be modeft, if thef
are truly pious : the rich Man, when it is not burdenfbme
to him, for Chrift's fake, to be made equal with the Poor ;
and the poor Man, that he does not become puffed up
with the Honour conferred upon him, but, giving Thanks to
Chrift, glories in him. It is beyond difpute, that nuisreiracns
is frequently ufed in the holy Scriptures, to fignify that Lowli-
nefs of Mind, or Dejection, which proceeds from Affliftion,
or Infirmity. Thus Pauly in th-- 7.d to the Vhilippiansy Who
fiall change our vile Bodies-, Tcttfiivoffiuf. In like manner in
Pfalms 9. i^. Conjlder my Trouble.) nuhtch I Jiiffer of them
that hate me ^ -Tuvelyam' And again, in Pfa'm i. 18. This
hath
1^94 1^
hath comforted me in mine HumiUty-, ei» 'jrtreiVKm, thaf is to
fay, in Afflidion. Tliere are a great many Texts of the like
kind, too many to be mentioned here. Therefore, as tv-'mm^'
may be metaphorically expreffed TxniseiVtxppjvwv, that is, of a
modeft Mind, and not puffed up i fo it will be no ftrange
thing for any one to ufe refaiivum for •Tefsreivotp^ffovn if we
fpeak according to the Scripture Phrafe. But, as for thofe
who will have it that -m'mdvsoeii fignifies Modefly of Mind in
the Song of the Virgin Mary^ and at the fame time do in
like manner interpret what we read, Gen.2(). The l^ord hath
looked upon my Aff,i^ion-f 'rvt'Tireiyeocnv ; Leah does not boaft
of her Modefty ; but in that, by reafon of her Deformity,
fhe was lefs pleafing to her Husband, fhe calls her Afflic-
tion. After the fame manner in Deutero7z. 2.6. And looked
tn our AffiiEiiony and our Labour^ and our OppreJJion.
Does he not call Tefn^eiveomv Afflidion? Lev. What is in
their Minds then, who, in the Song of the Virgin, inter-
pret ■nt'Belvctiffii Modeiliy of Mind ? Hi/. lean give no Reafon
for it j but that our Divines neglect the Knowledge qf
Language, and the Study of the Latin Tongue, and the
antient Fathers, who cannot be throughly underftood with-
out thefe Helps : And add to this, 'tis a hard Matter to re-
move Prejudice, when once 'tis fixed in the Mind. And
tiefides, you fee forae Perfons attribute fo much to the
Maxims of Schools, that they will rather reduce the Scripture
to them, than correct their human Notions by it. Lev. But
that is more abfuf d than what we read of the Lesbian Rule.
H;7. Bede the Monk, rio very grave Author, whenfoever he
departs from the received Opinions, in relation to the word"
^•wgjj/AJCTf, makes tnention of Pride. BvitTheophyla^y a Greek
Writer, who form'd his Notions chiefly from the moft ap-
proved GreekWriievSy denies that 'tet.'Uih &)^; is here to be taken
for a Virtue. But what need is there to have recourfe to Au-
thority, when the common Opinion of Men rejeds that Inter-
pretation ? Hi/, You fay very well , for inafmuch as Modefly
is, as it were, the Perfedion and Defendrels of all Virtues, it
would be Immodefly in any one to praife himfelf for it. "Twill
allow that this Virtue was mofV perfcd, and incomparat)le in
the holy Virgin ( I mean, Chrill excepted ; ) but in tliis very
thing fhe is the more commendable for Modefty, in that (lie
does not praife herfelf, but acknowledging her own Meannefs,
afcribes the Greatnefs of the Myftery to Divine Mercy. Mary,
fay they, for her Modejiy deferved to be the Mother of God.
I will allow this to be true in a Senfc : but pray what Mo-
defty is it for the Virgin to fay this of herfelf ? Lev. Nay,
more than that, the very Tenor of the Song declares, that
Ihe
fhe fpeaks of her own Unworthinefs, and therefore thus be-
gins : My Soul doth magnify the Lord. But fhe that fliall
fay, I deferve to be the Mother of God for my Madejly, mag-
nifies herfelf, and not the Lord,- and therefore anon Ihe
adds. For heholdj from henceforth all Generations Jhall call me
blejfed. Behold fignifies the thing was fudden and unex-
pedted. He does not exped to have the higheft of Honours,
that does not judge himfelf worthy of any Honour at all.
She does not fay, H^hath done to me great things becaufe
he judged me luorthy j but becaufe he is mighty.^ and doth
*whatfoever he will, and maketh them meet for his Favour
luho are uniuorthy. Nor is that faid to be a Happineis, that
is obtain'd by Merit; for Horace denies that himfelf was
to be call'd happy, in that he was adopted into the number
of Mcecenas's Friends. Hil. Why fo ? Lev. Becaufe it was
the EfFeil of Judgment, and not mere Favour: Mcecetias
render'd this to him, becaufe he adjudg'd it due to his Merit.
Hil. And to the fame Purpofe is that which follows : For he
that is mighty hath done to me great things, a7id holy is his
Name : She has faid holy inftead oi glorious. By how much
we arrogate to our own Merits, by fo much we detrad from
the Glory of the Divine Being : For as St. Paul fzys, His Tower
is made perfeSi iji our Weaknefs.- And immediately, in the
fame verfe, He hath depofed the mighty from their SeatSy
and exalted the Men of low degree : Not TtftfetvofQ^ve^y but
'TAtfeivii i- e. that -he may oppofe the deipiled in the Eye
of the World to Men of Power. The Sequel explains this
Verfe after the manner of the Prophet's fpeaking, The hungry
hath he filled with good things, hut the rich hath he fent
empty away. Thofe who juft now were call'd Men of low
degree, here are call'd hungry, that is, poor ; thofe who in'
one place are call'd mighty, are here call'd rich Men. In
the next Verfe there is mention made of Mercy difFufing
kfelf thro' all the Nations of the World. In the laft Verfe
ihe makes mention of her Confidence in God's PromifeSy
As he hathfpoken, &c. Throughout the whole Song there
is a fetting forth the Glory, that is, the Power, the Goodnefe
and Truth of God : There is no mention at all made of
Merits. Lev. But as Pride commonly accompanies Power
and Riches, fo Poverty teaches Modeily. Hil. I don't deny
that it fometimes fo falJs out ,• but you may oftentimes fee
poor Men that are very proud : If you deny that, I fhall in-
stance to you the many Merdards that there are in the Worlds
But for once, fuppofe I allow it, though it is not always fo,'
The Queftion is not here, what fort of Perfon the moll holy
Mother of Chrift was, but what flie fays of herfelf in this
Song,'
[ 4P5 ]
l&ong. Lev. I admire at the Obftinacy of thofe Perfons^
who have been fo often refuted, and laugh'd at for their
Folly ; and that they are not brought to a Recantation.
Hil. How often have they been told, that Declamation is the
treating on a fictitious Theme, wont to be made ufe of to
exercife the Faculty of fpeaking ? and yet their Sermons are
nothing elfe but Declamations. • How ofren have they been
told, that he is a Batchelor that has no Wife, tho' he keeps
fix hundred Concubines ? and yet they will have it, that
Celibacy is only Continency and Chaftity. It is the fame as
to Humility, and a great many other things. Lev. Whence
proceeds this obflinate Stupidity ? Hil. I anfwer you, I fay,>
it proceeds from the Merdards that are in the World : They
never would be at the pains to learn v/hen they were young ;.
nor have they any Books nor Opportunity to learn j and if
they have wherewithal to furnifh themfelves with Learning,
they had rather lay it out upon their Bellies. They think
the Sandity ot their Garmerit is enough in Confcience to
gain them a Reputation for Piety and Learning. And, irt
the laft place, they think it is fomepart of Religion to know
as little Latin as St. Francis did himfelf. Lev. Irt truth,
I know a great many that are like their Patron in that^
who {ay, capero for Galerm-^ and as I think Vc^ivienta for
Vcfies. But St. Francis always refus'd the Honour of a
Presbyter ^ and fo I think St. BenediB and Dominic did like-
wife. But now-a-days they, with their Vefiirnenta at their
Arfe, won't refufe a Cardinal's Hat, if it be offer'd them;
Hil. A Cardinal's Hat, fay you } no, nor a triple Crown
neither. And thofe humble Sons of poor St. Francis.^ will
put forth their Slippers t6 be kifs'd by the greateft Mo-*-
narchs in the World. L^v. And then if you fhould ufe
the Term Vilitas to 'em, it would be an unpardonable Crime.
Hil. Unpardonable indeed, if by Vile you mean that which
is of fmall account among Men, or feems contemptible to
itfelf. But what need is there to make an Excufe for that
which was not faid ? Lev. But was not Merdardus afham'd
to tell that Lye, and at Church too, and in one of the moft
famous ones, and in the hearing of a great AfTembly of
Monarchs, a great many learned Men, that had read over'
Erajmus^s Writings ? Hil. Afham'd, fay you ? no, the Buf-
foon thought he deferv'd the Laurel for it j for this is the
fourth Vow of the Merdardians, that they obferve more
religioufly than the other three, Not~ to be afham'd of any
thing. Lev. There are indeed a great many that are very
ftudious of that. Hil. But this was not a lingle Lye neither j
for in the firfl place, the Song of Mar^y as Luke wrote it,
retnaiqsl
C 45>7 ]
remains untouch'c)'. How can he be faid to correct any thing,
that makes no Alteration in it ? And then the Wora Humi-i .
litai is not alter'd, nor is there any mention mad:, of '^iHtas.
And in the laft place, he does not correct the Song, who
tranflates faithfully what Luke wrote, but only explains it.
T>ev. I perceive a threefold Lye, very like flich a Buffoon.
Hil. But hold, you have not heard the greareft Piece of
Impudence yet. Lev. What, have you any more then ? Hil.
He exclaimed againft that Afs as the Head, Author, and
Ringleader of all the Tumults that are in the Chriftian
World. Le-v. Say you fo ? Hil. And that it is to be char-
ged upon him, that the Church is torn in pieces by fo many
Sectaries, that the Clergy are defpoil'd of their Tythes, that
the Bifliops are fet light by, and ■ the facred Authority of the
Pope himfelf is every where difregarded ,• that Ploughmen
play the part of the old Gigantic Race. Lev. Docs he fay
thefe Things publickly ? Hil. Publickly ? ay, and makes a
Eaighty Clamouring too: Lev. But they are quire of an-
other Mind, that have attentively read over the Writings of
"Erafmus. A grCat many of them v/ill acknov/ledge, that
tliey have from his Performances colleded the Seeds of
true Piety. And this Fire that has been kindled by the
Monks, is gotten to that Height, that all die Endeavours they
ufe to put it out, are but juft as if you fhould pour Oil into
a Fire. Hil. You fee nuhat an evil Beaji the Belly is. Lev.
You have hit the Nail on the Head. It is indeed for the In-
tereft of fuch Fellows, that there be a great deal of Super-
ftition in the Chriftian World, and but a very little true
Religion. But what faid the Auditory } could they bear to
iiear fuch an Afs bray in the Pulpit ? Hit. Some wonder 'd
what was come to the Man. Thofe that were of a cholerick
Temper, went out of the Church murmuring, faying, W"e
came to hear the Praifes of the holy Virgin fet forth, and
this drunken Fellow is vomiting out his mere Calumnies
upon us. And there were a great many Women prcfent.
Lev. This Sex us'd to be mighty Admirers of chis Order
of Men. Hil. You fay right : But the Women perceiv'd
what fof t of a Fellow he was. And fome that were Women
of reading were uneafy, and fome hilled him. Lev. But
tn Afs does not mind hiding j fuch a railing Fellow ought
to have been pelted out of his Pulpit with rotten. Eggs and
Brick-bats. Hil. There were fome that thought he deferv'd
it, and would have done it, had it not been for RefpeA to
the Place. Lev. The Reverence of a Place ought not to
proted fuch as profarie it by their Impiety : As he that
V/ithin the Verge of the Court murders a Man, it is not
K k meet
[ 4;'8 ]
rteet tlie Church fhould be a Sanduairy to him ; (o in like
manner, he that in facred Difcourfes aoufes, not only Peo-
ples Patience, but alfo the Sandity of the Place, ought not
to be skreen'd by the Place, that he has by his Temerity
profaned. He was commended by the Antients, that would
hot permit any Perfon to be Conful, who had not been a 1
Senator : So it is not meet that he fliould be a Clergyman,
that knows not how to preach a Sermon. Hil. Folks are
afraid of the Biflnops Thunder-bolts, Si quis infligante
Diaholo, &c. You know the Law. Lev. The Bifhops
ought rather to level their Thunder-bolts at fuch Railers.
Hil. They themfelves aie afraid of thefe Fellows. Lev.
Who are they afraid of ? Hil. Why, of thefe bawling Fel-
lows. Lev. Why fo } Hil. Becaufe they are bawing Fel-
lows. Lev. The Apoftles were not afraid of the Menaces
of Kings and Rulers ; and are they afraid of a fingle Beg-
gar ? Hil. For that very Reafon they are the more to be
fear'd, becaufe they are Beggars ; they have nothing to lofe,
but they have Tongues to hurt : Go but to a Wafp's or
Hornet's Neft, and do but touch one of them with your
Finger ', and if you come off well, come to me again, and
then call the Bifliops Drones, that are afraid of irritating
one of thefe Beggars. Do not the mofl powerful Monarchs
of the Chriftian World revere the Pope j nay, and perhaps
are afraid of him too ? Lev. That's no wonder, inafmuch
as he is the Vicar of Chrift. Hil. Well i but it is reported
of Pope Alexander VI. who was no Fool, nor Blockhead
neither, that he us'd t© fay. He had rather offend one of
the greateft Monarchs, than the leaft Brother of the Order
of Mendicants. Lev. Well, let's not meddle with Popes :
But when the Princes that were at Augsburg heard it, did
they not puniih him for it ? Hil. They were all highly pro-
vok'd at him, but efpecially King Ferdinand, and his Silter
Mary, the Ornament of her Sex in this Age, and Berftard
Cardinal of Trent, and Balthazar Bifhop of Confiance ; , and
this Preacher was feverely chid, but by no body more fe-
verely, than by yohn Faber Bifliop of Vienna. Lev. What i
fignifies chiding ? an Afs minds nothing but a Cudgel. Hil. "
Efpecially if you give him Belly-timber. But what fhould
Princes trouble their Heads about fuch a filly Fellow as he
for ? they had Things of far greater Confequence to mind.
Lev. They fliould at leaft have filenced him from preach-
ing, and taken away his Penfion. Hil. But the cunning
Rogue put off the fpitting his Venom, till juft at the break-
ing up of the Diet, and they were juft going away. Lev,
They fay the Devil goes away fo, leaving a Stink behind
him.
I A99 1
him. Hil. He was difmifs'd by King Ferdwandy but was in
Very good cafe, as to his Corpfe j for tiie Chiding he met
with, did not make him abate of his Flefh. It is reported
of St. Francis-, that he preach'd a Sermon to his Sifters the
Birds j but he feems only fit to preach to his Brethren the
Afles, and Hogs. Lev. But whither went he, when he had
done } Hil. Whither fhould he go, but to his Ceil ? where
he was received with Applaufe by his Comrades, for having
aded his Part fo bravely and fuccefsfully ; and when they
got over their Cups, inftead of lo triuTuphe^ they fung Te
Deutn. Lev. This Merdardm deferves to wear his Rope
about his Neck, rather than his Waift. But what can we
wifh bad enough to that foolifK Society, that maintains fuch
Cattle as this is ? Hil. You can fcarce think of any thing to
wifh them worfe, than what they bring upon themfelves j
for by fuch Doings as thefe efpecially, they make themfelves
odious to all good Men, and bring themfelves into Con-
tempt more effeflually than an Enemy can do. But it is
not a Chriftian Spirit to wifh ill to any one j but we ought
rather to wifh, that the moft merciful Creator and Refor-
mer of all Things, who made Nebuchadnezzar an Ox of a
Man, and again turned him from an Ox to a Man ; and
gave the Tongue of a Man to Balaam^ Afs j would amend
all who are like this Merdardusj and give them Underftand-
ing and Utterance becoming Men that profefs the Gofpel
K k a P HI-
f ioo ]
. ^h$ Lo'ver of Glory,
The Argument:
Symhv^MS Jhevjs the Way to true Glory , and a goodlslame.
(i.) That a Man Jljould labour to he really fuch a one as
he ivould be accounted. (2.) That he JJyould endeavour to
imitate famous Men^ luho neverthelefs have been accufed
of various Crimes. Cato the Elder -was accufed forty
times. (3.) That he fhould take care not to overdo Things.
(4.) That he be of an eafy bearing Temper in relation to
other V er fans Manner SyViinking at fmall Faults. (5.) Uot
obfiinate and fond of his own Opinion. (6.) That he Jhould
be courteous, dec. It is impojjible to pleafe every one.
(7.) That as much as in him lies, he floould deferve well
of all. This is to be effeSted, partly by good Offices, and
partly by "Beneficence. Some Verfons have naturally this
Velicity, that whatfoever they do pleafes. (8.) Court efy
and engaging Carriage gains RefpeB; (9.) Inconftancy is
to he avoided. (10.) We muft deviate hut little from Na-
ture, but not at all from that which is honefi. (11.) The
Cuftoms of Men animations are to he ohferv'd. (12.) If
we are under a t^eceffity to do any thing that will neceffa-
rily difpleafe, let it appear that it was our Will to have
done otherwife. (13.) I->et us always do that which is jufi
and honefi. (14.) The Tongue is the Caufe why many
Terfons are envyd. How we ought to commend or difi
commend. (15.) To write Books on an uncommon SubjeUy
and to do it 'with Accuracy, is an Inlet to a good 'Repu-
tation. (16.) E?ivy, when it begins firfi to rije^ mufi bq
overcome by good Offices.
PHIJLODOXUS, SYMBULU^.
Thi.T Promife my felf Happinefs, that I have met with'
•*• you, Symhulus. Sym. I wifli, Philodoxus, it were in
my Power to make you happy in any thing. Phi. What
can be morf felicitous, than for God to meet a Man ? Sym.
y Indcef
Indeed T fliould account that much more lucky than the
Flight of a thoufand Night-Owls ; but what God is it you
mean ? Thi. Why, 'tis yourfelf I mean, Sytribulus. Symi
What me! Thi. Even yourfelf. Syvi. I always thought,
that thofe Gods that did their Bufinefs backwards, were not
worth a Straw. 'Phi. If the Proverb be true, That he is a
God that helps a Ma7ij then you are a God to me. Sym. I
leave the Proverb to be made out by other People j but as
for me, I would do any Service I can to my Friend with all
my Heart. Thi. Well, Symhulus-, don't be in Pain, I an't
about to borrow any Money of you : Counfel is a facred
Thing, only give me your Affiftance with that. Sym. That
is only demanding what is your own, fince this Office ought
to be mutual among Friends, as indeed fliould every thing
elfe. But what is it you want my Counfel in } Vhi. I am
weary of living in Obfcurity, I have a great mind to be-
come famous j prithee tell me how I may become fo. Sym.
O, here's a fliort Way for you ^ imitate Erofiratusj who fet
Diana's Temple on fire j or Zoilus., who carped at Homer j
or do fbme memorable Villainy or other j and then you
will be 35 famous as Cecrops or Nero. Phi. They that like
it, may get themfelves a Name by Impiety ; I am ambi-
tious of a good Name. Sym. Then be fuch a one in Fa(ft,
as you would be in Name. Phi. But a great many Per-
fons have been virtuous, that were never famous. Sym. I
queftion that ; but however, if it be as you fay. Virtue is
z fufficient Reward to itfelf. Phi. You fpeak very true,
and much like a Philofopher; But for all that, as Times
go, in my Opinion, Glory is the chief Reward belonging
to Virtue, which delights to be known, as the Sun does
to fliine ; for this very Reafon, that it may benefit a great
many, and draw them to an Imitation of itfelf And then
laftly, I don't fee how Parents can leave a fairer Fortune
to their Children, than the immortal Memory of a good
Name. Sym. Then, as I underftand you, you would have
Glory gotten by Virtue. Phi. That's the very Thing. Sym.
Then fet before you, for Imitation, the Men that have beea
celebrated by the Pens of all IVIen, fuch as Ariftides^ Pho~
eiouj Socrates., Epamimndasj Scipio Africanusj Cato Senior
and Cato of Utica, and Marcus Brutus j and the like ^ who-
both by War and Peace flrudied to deferve as well as poffi-
ble of the Common-Wealth. This is tlie fertile Field
of Glory. Phi. But among thofe famous Men, Ariftides
fuffered Banifhment for ten Years, Phocion and Socrates
drank Poifon, Epaminondas was accufed of Treafon, and fo
was Siipio j CatQ the Elder being accus'd, was oblig'd to
K k 5 plead
[ S02 ]
plead forty times in his own Defence, Cato ofUtica kill'd
himfelf, and (o did Brutus. But I would have Glory with-
out Envy. Sym. Ay, but that is more than Jupiter granted
even to Hercules himfelf ; for after he had tamed fo many
Monfters, laft of all he had Hydra to engage with ^ and that
was the longefb Engagement of 'em all. Phi. I would ne-
ver envy Hercules the Glories of his Labours ; I only ac-
count them happy Men that obtain a good Name, nor ful-
lied with Envy. Syrn. I perceive you'd have a pleafant
Life, and for that Reafon are afraid of Envy ; nor are you
in ,the wrong, for that is one of the worj3: of Monfters. Fhi.
It js fo. Sym. Then live a private Life. Thi. But that is
to be dead, and not to live. Syi?:. I underftand what you
would be at^ you would v/alk in the Sun, and have no Sha-
dow. Fhi, That's impoffible. Sym. And fo it is equally
impofTible to obtain Glory, and be free from Envy j Glory
accompanies Well-doing, and fo does Envy Glory: Phi.
But the old Comedian tells us, that Glory may be without
Envy, faying, Ita ut facillime Jine invidia laudem invenias
<^ amicos pares. Sym. If you will be content with that
Pr^ife, which young Pamphilus gain'd by Obfequioufnefe
and Agreeablenefs of Humour, you may from the fame
Place fetch the Method of obtaining what you defire fo
earneftly. Remember in every Thing, Ne quid nmis, [not
to over-do any thing] but yet Mediocriter oynnia, all Things
with Moderation] be eafy in bearing with the Manners of
other Perfons, taking no notice of fmall Faults ; and do not
be obftinate and tenacious of your own Opinion, but be
conformable to the Tempers of others j don't contradict
any one, but be obliging to all. Phi. Many Perfons have a
mighty AfFedion for Youth, and fo it is no hard Matter to
obtain fuch Praife as that. That which I would have is a
certain GlorioufneHj of Name, that Ihould ring all the
World over, that iTiould increafe in lUuftrioufnefs, as I do
in Age, and be moft renowned after my Death. Sym. I
commend the Greatnefs of your Mind, Philodoxus ; but if
you are ambitious of a Glory that proceeds from Virtue,
it is the chiefeft Vjrtue to be regardlefs of Glory, and the
higheft Commendation not to afpire after Praife, which
follows them moft that endeavour to fhun it. Therefore
you ought to take care, left the more ftrenuoully you pur-
fue it, the more you be fruftrated of it. Phi. I am not an
infenfible Stoic, I am fubjeft to human Affedions. SyiTi. If
you acknowledge yourfelf to be a Man, and don't refufe to
fubmit to thofe Things that are human, why do you purfuc
thofe Things which are denied, even to God himfetf .^ for
yoq
[ 503 ]
you know that Saying of Theocritus^ that was as truly as it
was wittily faid, yovsin nee pluviuniy nee fere?imn^ placcre
omnibus ,• That Jupiter docs not fleaje all Me?i-, either '•xheji.
he fends Rain or fair Weather. Phi. Perhaps there is no
Fire, but there is fome Smoke; bat yet there are feme
Things that are without Smoke. Akho'it be impolhble for
a Man to obtain a Glory, that ihall not be oblcurcd with
fome Cloud or other of Ill-will ; yet I believe there are
fome Methods to be taken, that there Ihall be but very little
.of Enmity mi.>:ed with it. Sym. Shall I tell you what thofe
Methods are? Fhi. I Ihould be very glad to know them.
Sym. Shew your Virtue but fparingly, and you fliall be the
lefs troubled with Envy. Fhi. But Glory is no Glory, un-
lefs it be notable. Sym. Well, I'll tell you a fare Way : Do
fome noble Exploit, and die j and then you fhall be renown'd
. without Enyy, as the Codri, the Iphigenii, the Decii and C^r/«
were.
Pafcitur in vivis livor, pojl fata quiefcit.
Envy is maintain'd among the Living, but ceafes after
Death.
Fhi. Indeed, to confefs ingenuoufly, I would leave the
Inheritance of a good Name to my Children and Grand-
children ; but I would have fome Enjoyment of it myfelf
while I am alive. Sym. Well, come, I v/on't keep you
any longer in Sufpence. The fureft Way to obtain an illu—
itrious Name, is to deferve well, as well in a private Capa-
city, of every particular Perfon, as in a publick Capacicy,
of the whole Community ; and that is to be done partly by
^ood Offices, and partly by Bounty : But Bounty is fo to be
moderated, as not to be obliged to take away forcibly from
one, what you beftow upon another ; for from fuch Bounty
as this, there arifes more ill Will from the good, thaji
good Will from the bad. And befides, to be commended
by the bad, is rather an Infamy than a Reputation. More-
over, the Fountain of Bounty will be drawn dry by frequent
Donations: But that Bounty that confifts in good Offices
has no Bottom j the more it is drawn, the more it fprings :
But there are a great many Things that mitigate Envy, and
illuftrate Glory ; which no body can give to himfelf, but
fhey happen purely from the Bounty of God himfelf..
Gratior ejl fulchro I'eniens e corpore virtus.
That Virtue is the more lovely, that goracs from -i
t)eautifylBody.
K k 4. But
D 504 ]
But no Man can beftow upon himfelf Comelinefs of Perfon^
Nobility carries along with it much of Dignity, but this is
the Gift of Fortune. The fame Opinion we ought to have
of Riches, which being juftly gotten by Grandfathers or
Great-Grandfathers, defcend to us by Inheritance. 'Nor can
any one beftow this upon himfelf. Of the fame kind are
Quicknefs of Wit, a Grace in Speaking, Pleafantnefs and
Courteoufhefs, that is not acquired, but in-bred j and in the
laft place, a certain internal Beauty and Felicity ^ the EfFedl
of which we fee daily in a great many, but can give no Reafon
of it : fo that we often fee the fame Things to be faid and
done by different Perfons, and he that aaed and faid the
worftj obtain'd Favour, when he who did and faid beft, in->
ftead of Thanks, gain'd ill Will. The Antients indeed afcri-
bed this Effed to Mens Genius ; for they faid that every one
was fortunate in that which he was born to ; and, on the
other hand, whatfoever any one attempted againft the Grain,
and the Confent of his Genius-, would never fucceed. Phi.
Then here is no room for Advice in this Cafe. Sym. Very
little : But yet Perfons of Penetration do difcover in Chil-
dren and Youth fome fecret Marks, by which they can
conjedure what Studies, what fort of Life, and what Adions
they are fitted for. So alfo as to thofe Things that are good,
there is a certain fe,cret Inftind of Nature in us, that we
have an Averlion for fome Things, without any apparent
Caufe, and are carried on with a wonderful Propenfity to
others. Hence it is that one is an expert Soldier, another a
good Politician, and another, you would fay, was born to be
a Student. And in thefe Things too, there is an admirable
Variety, as great as is the Diverfity of Employments. Na-
ture has framed one for a General, another for a good com-
mon Soldier i and where Nature has been moft bountiful,
there the fame Perfon may be fit to command or obey, as
Homer fays. So likewife in civil Affairs, one is a good
Counfellor ; another a good Barrifler ; another is made for
an Ambaffador, and performs that Office with great Succefs.
What need is there to mention the Variety of Inclinations ?
There are fome svho are fo ffrongly inclined to a monaftick
Life, and yet not every one neither, but to this or that par-?
ticular Order, that they take no Pleafure of their Lives, if
they do not attain it y when, on the other hand, others have
io ftrong an Averfion for that fort of Life, that they had
rather die than bs made Monks : Nor is this becaufe they
hate that way of living, or can give any Reafon for it, but
by fome fecret Inftind in Nature. Phi. As you fay, I havQ
often found many fuch Inftanccsj and have admired at them.
I SOS 1
SjM. In thefe Gifts that Nature liberally beftows upon us,
a Perfon fliall be much lefs liable to Envy, if a Man be noc
proud and oftentatious. Beauty, Nobility? Wealth, Elo-
quence, appear the moft lovely in thofe Perfons that feem
not to know they are endow'd with them. Courtefy and
jModefly" do no way lefTen thefe Advantages; but as they
add a Grace to them, fo they drive away Envy. And this
Courtefy and Sweetnefs of Temper ought to go along with
all the Adtions of our Lives, unlefs it be contrary to our Na-
ture j for, in my Opinion, Xenocrates would have attempted
in vain that which Socrates and Diogenes fucceeded in j Cato
the Csnfor would in vain have endeavour'd after that which
gain'd Lalius fo much good Will. Yet Demea in Terence being
aiter'd fo on a fudden, is a fufficient Inftance of what Efficacy
it is in gaining good Will, to fuit ourfelves with Perfons In-
clinations and Humours : but as often as Men deviate from
Right, they degenerate from taie Glory to the temporary
Favour of Man ; but that Glory only is lafting, which is
founded upon Honefty, and comes from the Judgment of
Reafon : For the Afredions make their temporary Efforts,
and when they have once fpent themfelves, we begin to hate
what before we loved vehemently, and hifs what before we
clapp'd, and condemn what before we commended : But tho'
the Difpofition can't be wholly aiter'd, yet it may in part be
correded. Thi. I want to hear what you aim at. Sym. He
that is of a complaifant Temper, ought to be careful, left
while he labours to ingratiate himfelf with all Perfons, he
deviates from Honefty : and left, while he endeavours to
accommodate himfelf to all Company, he changes his Shape
fo often, that none can tell what to make of him. Fhi. I
know a great many fuch flippery Blades, at whofe Vanity
one cannot forbear blufliing. Sym. But then again, they
who are of a rugged Temper, ought to endeavour fo to affed
Courtefy, as that what they do may not feem to be coun-
terfeit; or by ever and anon falling into their natural Pro-
penfity, inftead of Commendation get a double Difgrace,
firft for ading rigidly, and then for being inconfiftent with
themfelves. For Conftancy has fo great an Efficacy, that
they who are naturally of a bad Temper, are the eafier
borne with for this Reafon, becaufe they always ad like
themfelves ; for as foon as the Difguife is feen thro', even
Things that have been well aded become difpleafing : And
befides, that which is done under a Colour, can't be kept
always conceal'd ; it will come out one time or other, and
whenever it does, all the gay Appearance drops off, and
becomes a mere Jeft. Vhi. Jf I take in your Intention, yon
would
C So6 ]
^ould have one depart as little as may be from Nature^ but
not at all from Integrity ; (that which is honeft is honour-
able.) SjTK. You are right ; and befides, you know very
well, that whatfoever grows famous on a fudden, lies ex-
pos'd to Envy. And thence comes* the odious Name of an
Upftart, call'd by the Greeks rfo^A^T©- ; and by the Romans,
Novuf homo; and by both. Terra f/liy [Sons of the Earth]
and Ca/o delapfi [dropt out of the Clouds.] But that Re-
putation that fprings up gently, and grows gradually, as on
the one Side ix. is lefs liable to Envy, fo on the other it is
commonly more durable \ as the witty Poet Horace intimates,
iaying, Crefcit occulfo uelut arbor avo fama Marcelli, \_Mar^
ceifuh Fame grows infenfibly like a Tree :] So that if you would
obtain Glory that is true, lafting, and as lictle as may be ob-
noxious to Envy, mind what Socrates fays, that it often
hafpens that they luho make the mofi hafte at jirft fetting
mt-i come latent to their Journefs end. Phi. But the Life of
Man is very fhort. Sym. For that reafon we fliould ufe Ex-
pedition towards good Deeds, and not Glory ^ and that will
follow neceflarily of its own accord : For I fuppofe what you
enquire after, is not how you may live long ; for that is in
the Breafts of the Deftinies, who draw out and cut off the
Thread of Life at their Pleafure. Phi. I wifli you could do
that too. Sym. O Pkilodoxus ! God has never been fo
bountiful as to give all to one Man : what one wants in
Years, is often made up in Honour. There are indeed
fome, but thofe very few, to whom he is fo bountiful, that
while they are alive and as it were in being, they enjoy the
Fruits of Pofterity ; tho' they are but few that the juft God
loves. Perhaps fome of a divine Defcent have attain'd this ^
but this Felicity does not fall under our Confideration. Phi.
I have often admired whether it is by the Malignity of Na-
ture or Fortune, that no Conveniencies happen to Man-
kind, without being allay'd with fome Inconvenience. Syrft.
My Friend, what then have we to do, but, as we are oi
human Race, to endeavour to bear our human Condition
with a contented Mind ? And it will not a litrie conduce to
piodqrate Envy, if you do but look thorowly into the Dif-
pofitions of Nations, of Bodies of Men, and fingle Perfons ;
as they do who make it their Bufinefs to tame and feed Beafts;
for fuch Perfons pake it their chief Study to find out by
what Things the Animal is made fierce, or becomes tame:
I don't at prefent fpeak of the Difference between a Bird
and a four-footed Beaft, between a Serpent and a Fifh ; or
between the Eagle and the Vulture, between the Ele-
phant and the Horfej bc^weeri the Dolphin an4 the Porpoife,
t)Ctwee^
[ S07 1
benveen a Viper and an Arp , but of the innumerable Variety
that h between all kinds of Animals. Phi. I would faiti
hear what you drive at. Sym. All Dogs are contain'd under
one Species, but this Species is diverJify'd into innumerable
Forms, fo that you would fay they were fo many diftind:
Genus's, rather than one Species : For in the fame Speciesy
what a great Variety is there of Manners and Tempers ?
Phi. A very great one indeed ! Sym. That which is faid of
Dogs, you may underftand of all other living Creatures j but
it is not vifible in any other Creature fo much as in Horfes.
Phi. 'Tis true : But what do you mean by all this? Sym^.-
Whatfoever Variety there is in the different Kinds or Forms
of living Creatures, or in Individuals, fuppofe the fame to
be in Man : among them you will find Wolves of various
Kinds, Dogs in an unfpeakable Variety, Elephants, Camels,
Affes, Lions, Sheep, Vipers, Apes, Dragons, Eagles, Vul-
tures, Oftriches, Swallows , and what not ? Phi. But what
of all that? Sy?n. There is no living Creature fo fierce,
but, being managed by Art, it may be made ufeful, or at
leaft not hurtful. Fhi. I can't for my Life fee what you
drive at. Sym. There is a Difference between a Spaniard,
an Italian, a German, a Frenchman, and an Englijbman.
Phi. There is fo. Sym. Befides, there is in every fingle
Man of thefe feveral Nations, a certain Temper peculiar
to himfelf. Phi. I confefs it. Sym. If you fhall nicely ob-
ferve this Variety, and accommodate yourfelf to each of
their Manners, you will eafily bring it about, that they will
either all be your Friends, or at leaft that none of them will
be your Enemies. Phi. What, would you have me to be a
Polypus ; v/here is Honefty and Sincerity in the mean time ?
Sym. There is in all common Affairs a certain Obfequiouf-
nefs that does in no wife intrench upon Honeft}'; as for
inftancc : In Italy Men kifs one another, which would be
look'd upon very abfurd to do in Germany ; but inflead of
that, they give you their right Hand. Again, in 'England
it is the Cuftom for Men to kifs the Women, even at Church:
but if you Ihould do this in Italy, it would be accounted a
high Crime. Again, it is accounted a Piece of Civility to
give the Cup to one that comes in when you are at Dinner ;
but in France it is look'd upon as an Affront. In thefe and
the like Cafes Perfons may be complaifant, without any De-
triment to Honefty. Phi. But it is a very hard matter to
be acquainted with the Manners and Tempers of every Man
of all Nations. Sym. 'Tis true, Philodoxus : But if you
would obtain a confiderable Reputation, and that by Virtue,
you muft of Necelfity exercife qo cQnifaon Virtue. You knov/
Virtue
C io8 ]
Virtue is converfant in Difficulties, as old Hejlod taught be-
fore the Peripateticks j and therefore if you have a mind to
eat Honey, you muft be content to bear v/ith the Trouble of
Bees. Thi. I know that, and remember it very well ; but
that we are in queft of, is-, how to moderate Envy. Sym,
Then do you endeavour that in the Camp you rather chufe
to be a common Soldier than a General, and in fuch a War
as is againft Enemies who are Foreigners, rather than your
Fellow- Citizens and Countrymen. In Government rather
chufe thofe Offices which are popular and ingratiating ; as
to defend is more popular than to accufe, to honour than to
punifh. But if any Cafe happen, as it fometimes necefTarily
will, that is troublefome in its Nature, if you can't avoid
ading in it, make it as eafy as you can by Moderation. Fhi.
How muft that be done "> Sym. Suppofe you are a JudgG,
or an Arbitrator, you muft bear fomething hard upon one
Party or another ^ but be fure to manage the Matter with
fo much Equity, that, if it be poffible, he that you give the
Caufe againft, may give you Thanks. Fhi. How muft that
be manag'd > ■ Sym. Suppofe the Action be to be laid for
Theft or Sacrilege j if it be in your Power, mitigate it, and
let it be laid for a Trefpafs j and by this means you may eafe
the Defendant, and do no Injury to the Plaintiff. In iliorr,
moderate eveiy Caufe fo, that without injuring the Plaintif!^
you may feem to a(51: juftly to the Defendant j and laftly, make
the eondemn'd Perfon's Sentence as eafy as may be. And all
the while take care to avoid furly Looks, or four or morofe
Words ; for they often are the Caufe that fome Perfons
will owe you more ill Will for doing them a Courtefy, than
others fhall for denying them one. Sometimes you ought to
admonifla a Friend; but if there are no Hopes of his being
the better by it, it is better to be lilent. If it be a weighty
Cafe, and there be any Hope of doing good, then it is of
great Moment what the Admonition is j for it often falls out
that Admonition being either unhandfome or unfeafonable,
exafperates the Difeafe, and makes a Friend an Enemy. But
this Dexterity is moft necefTary if you admonifti a Prince j
for fometimes it falls out, that their Humours muft be con-
tradided ; and if it be done pleafantly and wittily, afterwards
they that contradidled have greater Thanks given them,
than they that foothed them : For that which is grateful to
the Paffion is of fhort Continuance, but what is done with
Reafon, is approved always ,• for the far greater Part of ill
Will arifes from the Unrulinefs of the Tongue. How much
Mifchief does fometimes a fingle Word bring upon fome
Perfons ? how many has an ill-timed Jeft brought to Ruin ?
There-
[ S^9 ]
Therefore when you commend any Perfon, let it be thofe
that are worthy, and fparingly ^ but be more fparing in re-
flecting on any one, if you do refled at all. And then again,
you muft avoid Talkativenefs, for it is a very hard Matter to
talk much, and to the purpoTe. Fhi. I agree to all thefe
Things^ but, in my Opinion, the chief V\'"ay of making one's
Name famous, is to write Books. Sym. You fay very right i
it is, were it not that there are fo many Authors : But if you
are for doing it that way, take care you write with a great:
deal of Exa&nefs, rather than much j and in the firft place,
chufe fome Argument that is not common, that has been
touch'd on but by very few, and flich a one that is not of an
invidious Nature : and bellow upon it all the curious Obfer-
vations that you have been colleding for many Years, and
then treat on it in fuch a manner, that may be both profita-
ble and pleafant. Phi. You give me very prudent Advice,
and fuch as would be to my Satisfaction, if you went one
Step farther, and told me how I might attain this Glory
quickly too j for I fee a great many that don't grow famous
till they are going out of the World, and others not till they
are gone out of it. Syyji. As to that, I have no -better Ad-
vice to give you, than ihat which the Fidler gave his Fellow :
See that you approve yourfelf to thofe that have already at-
tain'd fuch a Glory as has repeli'd Envy : Let yourfelf into
the FamiUarity^of fuch Perfons whofe good Word will gain
you Efteem with the Populace. Thi. But if notwithfianding
all this I be attack'd with Envy, what Remedy do you pre-
fcribe ? Sym. Then do as they do who boil Pitch i, if it catch
Fire they pour Water upon it, and then it will rage and
crackle more if you don't keep on doing fo. Tki. What
fort of Riddle is that.? Sym. When you perceive Envy
arifmg, rather overcome it by Benefits than Revenge. Her-
tules was never the better for cutting off the Hydra's Heads ;
it was by rhe Greek Fire that he overcame the deftroying
Monfter. Fbi. But what is that you call the Greek Fire ?
Sym. That which burns in the middle of the Water. He
applies that who being provok'd by the Injuries of ill Men ,
neverthelefs does not give over doing good to all that deferve-
it. Thi. What's that you mean ! is Beneficence fometimes
Water, and fometimes Fire } Sym. Why not } when Chrift
by way of Allegory is fometimes a Sun, fometimes a Fire,
fomedmes a Stone. I faid fo for the purpofe j if you know
any thing better, make ufe of it, and don't follow my An-
yice.
OP Ui
t Sio ] .
OPULENTIA SOKDIBA^ or tbe If ealthy
MISER.
The Argument'.
Opulentia Sordida relates the -wretched Mijerlinefi of a cer^
tain rich Mifer j by nvhich is fet forth hov) Mijers live.
In Winter-ti'me they make their Fires of green Roots of
Trees, "which produce fcarce either Vlavie or Smoke. There
is fcarce any fleeping for the Fleas and Bugs. They mix
their Wine -with Water. The 'Lees of Wine produce the
Gravel in the Kidneys. They buy damaged Corn, and mix
it 'With a third Fart of Chalk. They eat rto Breakfajf,
put off their Dimier till Afternoon, and go to Supper near
Midnight. The mean Pro'vifon of the Table. They buy
the 'worft of Meat. Terfons of lean Bodies and weak Con-
fiitutions fbould not fafi. That Diet has a great htfluence
for the Prefervation of Health.
J AMES and OILBUKT.
y<j;. rrOW comes it about that you are fo lean ' and mea-
•■^ gre ? you look as if you had liv'd upon Dew with
the Grafhopper ; you feem to be nothing but a mere Skele-
ton. Gil. In the Regions below, the Ghofts feed upon Leeks
and Mallows^ but I have been thefe ten Months where I
could not come at fo much as them. ^a. Where is that,
prithee ? what, have you been in the Galleys ? Gil. No, I
have been at Synodium. Ja. What, ftarv'd to Death al-
moft in fo plentiful a Country ? Gil. 'Tis true as I tell you.
ya. What was the Occafion of it? what, had you no
Money ? Gil. I neither wanted Money nor Friends. Ja.
What the mifchief was the matter then ? Gil. Why, yoa
mull know I boarded with Antronius. J a. What, with
that rich old Cuff? Gil. Yes, with that fordid Hunks.
Ja. "Tis very ftrange, methinks. Gil. Not ftrange at all ;
for by this fordid way of living, they that have little or
nothing to begin the World with, fcrape together fo much
Wealth. Ja. But how came you to take a Fancy to live
fo many Months with fuch a Landlord ? Gil There was a
certain
[ ill ]
certain Affair that oblig'd me to it, and I had a Fancy fo to
do likewife. Ja. But prithee tell me after what manner he
lives. Gil. I'll tell you, fince V/V a Vie a jure to recount the
Hardjbipi one has fufiatji'd. fa. It will certainly be a Plea-
fure to me to hear it. Gil. Providence fo order'd it, that
the Wind fat full North for three Months together, only it
did not blow from the fame Point above eight Days toge-
ther j but I can't tell theReafon of it. fa. How then could
it blow North for three Months together -, Gil. Why, upon
the eighth Day, as if by Agreement, it fhifted its Station j
where, after it had continu'd fome feven or eight Hours,
then it veer'd to the old Point again, fa. In fuch a Place
as that your Callicoe Body had need have a good Fire to
keep it warm. Gil. We had had Fire enough, if we had
but had Wood enough : But our 1L,andlord Antronius^ to
fave Charges, us'd to grub up old Stumps of Trees in the
Common, that no body thought worth while to get but him-
felf j and would get them by Night : And of thefe, green as
they were, our Fire was commonly made, which us'd to
fmoke plentifully, but would not flame out i fo that tho' ic
did not warm us at all, yet we could not fay there was no
Fire. One of thefe Fires would laft us a whole Day, they
burnt lb deliberately. Ja. This was a bad Place for a Man
to pafs the Winter in. Gil. It was fo j but it was a great
deal worfe to pafs a Summer in. Ja. Why fo ? Gil. Be-
caufe there was fuch a Multitude of Fleas and Bugs, that
there was no being quiet in the Day-time, nor deeping in
the Night. Ja. What a wretched Wealth was here } Gil.
Few were wealthier in this fort of Cattle. Ja. Sure your
Women were lazy Sluts. Gil. They were mew'd up in an
Apartment by themfelves, and feldom came among the
Men j fo that you have nothing pf 'em but the Name of
Women : And the Men are forc'd to go without thofe Ser-
vices which properly belong to that Sex in other Families.
Ja. But how could Antronius away with all this Naftinefs ?
Gil. Pfhaw, he was us'd to it from his Cradle, and minded
nothing in the World but getting of Money. He lov'd to be
any where but at home, and traded in every thing you can
think of. You know that City is a great Town, of the greateft
Commerce and Bufinefs : What's his Name the famous
Painter thought that Day was loft, wherein he did not employ
his Pencil j and our Antronius look'd upon himfelf undone,
if one fingle Day pafs'd over his Head without fome Profit.
And if fuch a Difafter happen'd to him, he did not fail one
way or other to make it up at home. Ja. What did he
•do ? Gil, Why, he had a Ciftern ot Water in the Houfe, as
mof^
t 512 ]
ffioll People in that City have, whence he us'd to draw fd
many Buckets of Water, and put into his Hogfheads of
Wine. This was a mofl: certain Profit. Ja. I fuppofe the
Wine was fomething of the ftrongeft then ? Gil. Far from
that, for it was as dead as Ditch-watery for he never, bought
any but what was decay'd to his hand, that he might buy it,
at an eafier Rate: And that he might not lofe a Drop of this,'
he us'd to mix and jumble the Grounds of at leaft ten Years
ftanding, -and fet them a fermenting, that it might pafs for
new Wine upon the Lees j "and would not lofe a Drop of the
Dregs neither. Ja. If we may believe the Phyficians, fuch
Wine will certainly breed the Stone. Gil. There were no
Dodtors there, I'll aflure you : and in the moffc healthful
Years, two or three at leaft of the Family died of that Dif*
temper; but he never troubled his Head about that, how
many Burials went out of the Houfe. Ja. No ! Gil. He
made a Penny even of the Dead. And there was no Gain he
was afliam'd to take, tho' it was never fo fmall. Ja. Under
your Favour, this was down-right Theft tho'. Gil. Your
Merchants term it, turning an honeft Penny. Ja. But what
fort of Liquor did Antronius drink all the while? Gil.
Almoft the very fame Nedar that I told you of. Ja. Did
he find no Harm by it > Gil. He was as hard as a Flint,
he could have lived upon chopt Hay ; and, as I told you
before, he had been us'd to fare hard from his Infancy. And
he look'd upon this dajhitig and brewing to be a certain Pro*
fit to him. Ja. How fo, I befeech you ? Gil. If you
reckon his Wife, his Sons, his Daughters, his Son-in-Law,
his Men-fervants, and his Maid-fervants, he had about
thirty-three Mouths in the Family to feed. Now the more
he correded his Wine with Water, the lefs of it was drunk,
and the longer'it was drawing off; fo then if you compute
a large Bucket of Water thrown in every Day, it will amount
to no fmall Sum, let me tell you, at the Year's End. Ja. A
fordid Fellow! Gil. This was not all, he made the fame
Advantage of his Bread too. Ja. How could he do that ?
Gil. He bought mufty Wheat, fuch as no body elfe would
buy but himfelf. Now, in the firft place, here was a pre-
fent Gain, becaufe he bought it fo much cheaper j and then
he had an Art to cure the Muftinefs. Ja. But prithee how
did he do that ? Gil. There is a fort of Chalk, not alto-
gether unlike to Corn, which you may fee Horfes are de-
lighted wii-h, when they gnaw it out of the Walls, and
drink more freely out of that Pond-water where this Chalk is
to be found. He mixed one third Part at leaft of this Earth
with his Bread. Ja. And do you call this curing of it ? Gil.
' ' This
C i'3 ]
Tkis is certain, that it made the Muftinefs of the Com he
hot altogether fo perceiveable j and now, was not this i •
confiderable Profit ? He had another Stratagem befides
that, for he bak'd his own Bread at home, which, in the
very midft of Summer, he never did oftner than twice in a
Month. Ja. Sure it mail be more hke Stones than Bread
for Hardnefs. Gil. Nay, harder than a Stone, if poffible ;
but we had a Remedy for that too. ^a. What was that ?
Gil. .We us'd to foke Slices of this Bread in Bowls of Wine.
ya. The Devil a Barrel the better Herring. But how did the
Servants like this Treatment } Gil. I will firfl: tell you how
the top Folks of the Family v/ere ferv'd, and then you may
eafily gucfs how the Servants far'd. ^a. I long to hear it.
Gil. There was not a Word to he mention'd about Break-
tafl: ; and as for Dinner, that • was generally deferr'd till
one of the Clock in the Afternoon. Ja. Why fo .^ Gil.
We waited for the Mailer of the Family's coming home,
and then we feldom went to Supper before ten. j^a. But
how did you bear it ? you us'd to be very impatient for your
Viduals. Gil. I call'd ever and anon upon Ortkrogojius, our
Landlord's Son-in-Law, who lay upon the fame Floor with
myfelf : Soho, Monfieur, faid T, do you make no Dining to
day at Synodium ? He anfwer'd, Antronius will be here id
a Minute. Theri finding not the leaft Motion towards Din-
ner, and my Guts very mutinous j Hark you, Vrthrogoizusy
faid I, do you defign to fbarve us to day ? Then he would
perfuade me it was not fo late, or put me off with fome fuch
Pretence. Then, not being able to bear the bawling my
Bowels made, I interrupted him again : What do you
mean, faid I, to ftarve us to death ? When he found he had
no more Excufes to make, he went down to the Servants,
and order'd them to lay the Cloth. But at laft, when no
A'ritronius came, and Dinner feem'd to be as far off as ever,
OrthrogonuSj wearied with the Ndife I m.ade in his Ears,
went to the Apartment where his Wife and Moth'-r, and
Children were, bidding them get Dinner ready. J a. Well,
now I e\'pe6l to hear of the Dinner. Gil. Pray don't be for
hafty. Then there came a lame Fellow, juft fuch another
as Vulcan-) who laid the Cloth, for that it feems was his
Province i this was the firft Hope we had of Dinner j and at
laft, after I had baWi'd a long Time, a Glafs Bottle of fair
Water is brought in. Ja. Well, now there's more Hope.
Gil. But I tell you, don't be too hafty. Again, not v/ithout,
a great deal of knocking and calling, in comes a Bottle of
the Wine I fpoke of, as thick with Dregs as Puddle- water.
Ja. That's well however. Gil. But not a Bit of Bread
[ 514 ]
came along with with it ; tho' there was no great Danger we
fhould touch it j for fcarce any body would, had they been
ever fo hungry. Then I fell to calling till I was hoarfe
again j and at laft the Bread comes, but fuch as a Bear could
fcarce bite of. Ja. Well, now there was no Danger of
ftarving. Gil. Late in the Afternoon home comes Antronius-y
and generally with this unlucky Pretence, that his Belly
ach'd. Ja. But what was that to you ? Gil. Thus much,
that we were to go fupperlefs to Bed ? for what could you
expert when the Mafler of the Houfe is out of Order ? Ja,
But was he fick in good Earneft ? Gil. So Tick that he
would have devour'd you three Capons to his own Share, if
you would have treated him. Ja. I am impatient to hear
your Bill of Fare. Gil. Firft of all there is a Plate full of
grey Peas brought in, fuch as old Women cry about the
Streets, and this was for our Landlord's own eating : He
pretended that this was his Remedy againft all Difeafes.
fa. How many Guefts were there of you at Table ? Gil.
Sometimes eight or nine ^ among whom was one Ver^ius, a
learned Gentleman, to whofe Character I fuppofe you are
no Stranger, and our Landlord's eldeft Son. ^a. What
was their Mefs ? Gil. Why, the fame that Melchifedek of-
fered to Abraham., after he had conquer'd the five Kings i
and was not that enough for any reafonable Man ? J^a. But
was there no Meat ? Gil. There was Meat, but there was
but a very little of it. Ja. What was it > Gil. I remem-
ber we were once nine of us at Table, when there were no
more then feven fmall Lettice Leaves fwimming in Vinegar,
but not a Drop of Oil to make 'em flip down. Ja. But did your
Landlord eat all his grey Peas himfelf ? Gil. You muft
know there was fcarce a Farthing-worth of them, however-
he did not abfolutely forbid thofe that fat next him to t'afte
them, but it look'd uncivil to rob a iickMaiiof hisVidluals.
Ja. But were not your Lettice Leaves fplit, to make the
greater Show ? Gil. Why truly they were not j but when
thofe that fat at the upper End of the Table had eatea
up the Leaves, the reft fop'd their Bread in the Vinegar.
Ja. But what, I pray, came after thefe Lettice Leaves ?
Gil. What .? what fliould come but Cheefe, the laft Difh at
Dinner ? Ja. But was this your daily Fare ? Gil. Ge-
nerally fpeaking it was j but now and then, if the old Gen-
tleman had the good Luck to get Money in the Way of ,
Trade that Day, he would be a little more generous. Ja^
How did you fare then ? Gil. Why, then he would fend out
to buy a Penniworth of frefh Grapes, at nine Bunches a Pen- \
ay ; this made the wlwle Family iing O be joyful. Ja. Why
not ?
ilot ? Gil. But then you muft underftand too, tllat this was
never but when Grapes were dog-cheap, ^a. What then,
did he never launch out but in Autumn ? Gil. Yes, he
will thus launch out at feme other Times too j for you mull
know that there are Fellows that catch a fmall Sort of Shell-,
fifh, mofb commonly on the Shores, and cry them about the
Streets, and he'd now and then buy an halfpennyworth of
thefe ; then you'd fwear there had been a Wedding- Dinner
in the Family : There was a Fire made in the Kitchen, (ho*
not uery much of it neither-, for thefe don't ask much boil-
ing j and thefe Dainties come always after the Cheefe, in-
ftead of a Defert- J<i. A very fine Defert indeed ! But
do you never ufe to have any Fiefli or Fifh ? Gil. At lafl;
the old Gentleman being overcome by my clamouring, be-
gan to live a little more nobly ^ and whenever he had a
Mind to fhew his Generoiity in good Earneft, this was our
Bill of Fare. Ja. I long to hear what that is. Gil. Impri"
niii-y We had a Dilh of Soop which they call a Service, but
I don't know why. Ja. A very rich one, I fuppofe. GiL
Very high feafon'd with the following Spices : They took
you a large Kettle of Water, and fet it over the Fire ; into
this they fling a good Quantity of skim'd-milk Cheefe,
grown as hard as a Brick-bat, that you can fcarce cut it
with an Hatchet ; and when thefe Fragments of Cheefe grov/
a little fofter by foaking and feething, they alter the Pro-
perty of the Liquor, that it is not then fair Water : Now
this Soop is ferv'd in as a Preparative for the Stomach. Jal
This was a Soop for Sows. Gil. And the next Courfe is a
. Piece of ftale Tripe, that has been boil'd a Fortnight. Ja^
Why then it muit needs (link. Gil. It does ftink, but they
have a Ps.emedy for that too. J a. What is that, pVay ?
Gil. I v/ould tell you, but I'm afraid you'll put it into Prac-
tice. Ja. Ay, marry. Sir ! GiL They would take an Egg
and beat it up in warm Water, and daub the Tripe over
with the Liquor j and fo they put the Cheat upon the Eye
indeed, but can't cheat the Nofe, for the Stink will force
its W-ay thro' all. If it happen'd to be a Fifh-day, we had
fometimes three Whitings, and but fmall ones neither, altho'
there were feven or eight of us at Table. Ja. What, nothing
- elfe ? Gil. Nothing but that Cheefe, as hard as a Stone.
ya. The oddeft Epicure I ever heard of But how could (o
flender Provifion be enough for fo many Guefts of you, and
efpecially not having eat any Breakfait ? Gil. Well, to fa-
tisfy you, I tell you, that the Remainder fed the Mother-
in-Law, the Daughter-in-Law? the youngeft Son, a Servant-
Maidj and a Litter of Children. Ja. Nay, now inftead of
L 1 a Jef-
leffening, you have heighten'd my Admiration. Gil. 'Tis
fcarce poffible for me to explain this Difficulty to you, unlefs
I lirft reprefent to you in what Order we fat at Table. Ja.
Pray reprefent it then. Gil. Antronius, he fat at the upper
End of the Table, and I fat at his right Hand, as being
principal Gueft i over-againft Antronius fat Ortbrogonus ,
next Ortbrogonus^ Verpius ; next to VerpiuSj Strategus a
Greet an j Antronius' s eldeft Son fat at his left Hand. If
any Stranger came to dine with us, he was plac'd according
to his Quality. As for the Soop, there was no great Danger
of its being eaten up, nor no great Difference in the Mefles,
but only that in the Difhes of the principal Guefts there
were fome Bits of this Cheefe floating up and down. And
befides, there was a fort of Barricado made betwixt this
Scop by Bottles of Wine and Water, that none but three,
before whom theDifh flood, could participate, unlefs he
would be impudent indeed, and go beyond his Bounds.
Nor did this Difh flay long there, but was foon taken away,
that fomething might be left for the Family. Ja. What did
the refl eat all this while ? Gil. They regal'd themfelves after
their own Fafliion. Ja. How was that ? Gil. Why they
fopt the chalky Bread in that four dreggy Wine. Ja. Sure
your Dinner us'd to be over in a Minute. Gil. It oftentimes
held above an Hour. Ja. How could it be ? Gil. The
Soop being taken away, which, as I told you before, might
have ftood without any great Danger, Cheefe was brought to
Table, and that ran no great Rifque j for it was fo hard it
would bid Defiance to a Carving-knife. Every Man's Por-
tion of that dreggy Wine and Bread flood before him flill j
and over thefe Dainties they diverted themfelves with tell-
ing Stories ; and in the mean Time the Women eat their
Dinner. Ja. But how did the Servants fare in the mean
Time ? Gil. They had nothing in common with us, but
din'd and fup'd at their own Hours : But this I can tell
you, they fcarce fpent half an Hour's Time in a whole Day
at Viduals. Ja. But what fort of Provifion had they ?
Gil. You may eafily guefs that. Ja. Your Germans think
an Hour little enough to breakfafl in, and they commonly
take as much Time to their Beaver, an Hour and an half at
their Dinner, and at leafl two Hours at Supper ; and unlefs
their Bellies are well fill'd with good Wine, Flefli, and Fifli,
they run away from their Maflers, and go into the Army.
Gil. Every Nation has its peculiar Cufloms ; the Italiajis
lay out but very little upon their Bellies j they love Money
better than Pleafure j and this Temperance they owe ra-
]^er to Nature than CiiAom. Ja. Now truly \ don't wonder
yoij
[ Si7 ]
you are come home fo lean, but rather that you are coraft
home alive, cfpecially fince you were fo us'd to Capons,
Partridges, Pigeons, and Phcafants. Gil. Why, in Truth, I
had very fairly troop'd off, unlefs I had found me put a Re-
medy. Ja. 'Tis but poor living, where fuch frequent Re-
courfe mull be had to Remedies. Gil. I brought Matters
about fo, that I had the fourth Part of a boil'd Pullet allowed
- to every Meal, to keep up my languifhing Spirits. J^a. Ay,
marry, now you begin to live ! Gil. Not altogedier fo well
as you imagine ; for old Gripe bought the leaft he could lay
his Hands on, to fave Expences, fuch that fix of them would
not ferve a Folander of a tolerable Stomach for a Breakfaft y
and when he had bought them, he would give them no
Corn, becaufe he would not put himfelf to extraordinary
Charges ; fo a Wing or a Leg of the Fowl, that was half
ftarv'd, before it was put into the Pot, was boil'd for my
Dinner, and the Liver always went to Orthrogonus^s litde
Son J and as for the Broth, the Women were perpetually lap-
ping it up, and every now and then they put in frefh Water i
{o that by that Time it came to me it was as dry as a Chip,
and no more Tafte in it than the Foot of a Joint-itool : And as
for the Broth, it was nothing but a little Water bewitch'd.'
Ja. And yet I hear that you have all forts of Fowl there in
great Plenty, very good, and very cheap. Gil. They are fo,
but Money is hard to come by. Ja. You have done Pe-
nance enough, one would think, if you had murder'd the
Pope, or pifs'd againft St. Peter's Tomb-ftone. Gil. But
hear the reft of the Farce out. You know there are five Days
in a Week that we may eat Flefh on. ^a. What then ?
Gil. He only ■ bought two Pullets for the whole Week : On
Thurfday he would pretend he forgot to go to Market, left
I fhould either have a whole Pullet on that Day, or any
fhould be left. Ja. In fhort, I think your Landlord was a
greater Mifer than Euclio in Vlautus. But what Courfe did
you take to keep yourfelf alive upon Fifh-days ? Gil. I
employ'd a certain Friend to buy me every Day three Eggs
with my own Money, two for my Dinner, and one for my
Supper : But here alio the Women put their Tricks upon
me i for inftead . of my new-laid Eggs that I paid a good
Price for, they would give me rotten ones, that I thought I
came well off, if one of my three Eggs prov'd eatable. I
alfo at laft got a fmali Cask of good Wine bought for my own
drinking, but the Women broke open my Cellar-door, and in
a. few Days drank it all up, and my Landlord Antronius di4
not feem to be much difpleas'd at the matter. Ja. But
|yas there no body in the Family that took Pity on you ?
LI 3 Gi/j
1 518 ]
Cil Take pity on me, fay you ? No, they thought me a
Glutton and a Cormorant, who by myfelf devour'd fo much
Victuals : And upon that Account Orthrogonus would ever
and anon give me good Advice, that I fhould confider the
Climate where I liv'd, and therefore have Regard to my-
felf J telling me of feveral of my Countrymen, who had by
their over-eating in that Country either procur'd their
own Deaths, or brought upon themfelves very dangerous
Diftempers. But when he found me fupporting my out-
ward Tabernacle, that was fatigued, ftarv'd, and diftem-
per'd, with fome Knick-knacks that were fold at the Con-
fedioners ; he fets a Phyfician, a Friend and Acquaintance
of mine, to perfuade me .to live moderately. The Doftor
took a great deal of Pains with me : I foon perceiv'd he had
beenfet onto do it, fo I made him not a Word of Anfwer :
But when he was ftill urging me very hard, and was always
harping on the fame String j I faid to him, Worthy Dqdtor,
pray tell me, are you in J eft, or inEarneft? O, in Earneft,
faid he. Well then, reply'd I, what would you have me to
do ? Why, to leave off Suppers for good and all, and to mix
at leaft one half Water with your Wine. I could not forbear
laughing at this excellent Advice, and faid to him. If you
want to fee me decently laid in a Church-yard, you pro-
pofe a ready Way for it j for I am fure it would be prefent
Death to me, in the Circumftances of this poor, lean, di-
fpirited Body, to leave off Suppers ; and I have try'd that fo
often, that in fhort I have no Mind to make the Experiment
^gain. What, pray, do you think would become of me, if,
after fuch Dinners as we have here, I fhould go fupperlefs
to Bed } And then to bid me mingle Water with fuch weak
infipid Wine ! pray tell me, is it not much better to drink
clear Water from the Spring, than to debauch it with this
ibur dreggy Stuff } I don't doubt but Orthrogonus put you
upon giving me this Advice. At this the Do6lor fmil'd,
and allow'd me better Terms : Moft learned Gilbert, faid
}ie, I did not fay this to you, that you fhould totally leave off
eating Suppers ^ you may eat an Egg, and drink a Glafs of
'Wine j for this is my own Manner of living. I have an Egg
boil'd for my Supper, one half of the Yolk I eat myfelf, and
give the other half to my Son j then I drink half a Glafs of
Wine, and by the Help of this RefrelTiment I ftudy till late
in the Night. Ja. Bat did this Do6tor fpeak the Truth ?
GiL Yes, the very Truth j for as I was once coming home from
Church, a Gentleman that bore me Company, told me the
Doctor dwelt there : I had a Mind to fee his Quarters, fo i
iffiipck'd at the Door^ and in I went, I remember it was oq
^ Sunday j
a Sunday ; I found the Dodor, his Son, and Servant, at
Dinner ^ the Bill of Fare was a Couple of Eg^s, and notbing
at all elfe. ^a. Why Cure they mull: be mere Skeletons. Git.
Noj really, they were both plump and in good-liking, frefh-co-
lour'd, their Eyes brisk and lively, ^a. I can fcarce believe it.
Gil. I tell you nothing but what I know to be true : Nay,
he is not the only Man that lives after this manner, but
many others, Men of Fafhion and Subftance in the World,
do the fame. Take my Word for it, much eating and drink-
ing is rather an Effed of Cuftom, than of Nature. If a Per-
fon accuftom himfelf by little and little, he may come in
Time to do as much as Miloy to eat up an Ox in a Day's
Time. ^a. Good God 1 if it be poffible for a Man to pre-i
ferve his Health with fo little Suftenance, what a great deal
of unnecellary Expence are the Germavs^ EngliJBy DaneSj
and Poles at upon their Bellies ? Gil. A great deal with-
out Doubt, and that to the apparent Prejudice of their
Health and Underftanding. Ja. But what's the matter
that you could not content yourfelf with that Way of living ?
Gil. Becaufe I had accuftom'd myfelf to another manner,
and it was too late to alter my way of living then. But be-
fides, Idid not fo much diflike the Quantity of our Pro vifion, as
the Quality of it. Two Eggs had been enough for a Meal for
me, if they had been frefli-laid ; one Glafs of Wine had
been enough, if we had not had nafty Lees given us inftead
of Wine ; half the Bread would have ferv'd me, if it had
not been mix'd with Chalk, j^a. Lord ! that Antronius
fhould. be fuch a fordid Wretch amidft fo much Wealth !
Gil. I believe verily he was worth 80000 Ducats ; and to
fpeak within Compafs, he never got lefs, than 1000 Ducats a
Year befides. Ja. But did thofe young Sparks, for whom
he fcrap'd all this together, live at the fame fparing Rate ?
Gil. Yes, at home they did, but it was only there ; for
wbsn they got abroad, they would eat, drink, whore, and
game notably j and while their old Father thought much to
Q)end Sixpence at home, to treat the beft Friend he had,
thefe Sparks would make nothing to lofe fixty Ducats in a
Night at gaming. Ja. This is the ufual Fate of Eftates that
are gotten by miferly living j they are commonly thus fpent-
But now you are gotten fafe out of thefe great Difficulties,
whither are you fteering your Courfe } Gil. I am going to
an old Club of merry Cocks, to endeavour to fetch up what
I have lofto
LI 4 2^<:
[ 520 ]
ne SERAPHIC FUNERAL,
The Argument.
Whe Seraphic Funeral lays open the Order, Habit, Life,,
VoiJOSj and horrid Blajphemies of the Francifcans. That
theVrincikzn Habit laillmake one that lives to the Devil
(lie to Chriji, and is of more 'Efficacy than Baptifm. The
Secrets of the Francifcan Order. That the Difciples
of St. Francis have greater Privileges than the Difciples
of Chrifi. That a Francifcan Habit luill drive avjay the
Devil, and not fuffer the Worms to prey upon the dead
Qorps. That this Drefs makes Meji happy ^without Faith,
That it vjould fave a Turk, nay the Devil% himfelf, if
they did but put it on. That St. Francis has added to.
the Gofpel of Chrifi. That the Francifcans are forbid
fo much as to touch Money,
PHILACOUS ^;^i THEOTIMUS.
f^- Yy* HY, where have you been, Theotimus, with that
new-fafhion'd religious Look ? Th. Why fo ? Vh.
You look fo ftern, methinks, with your Eyes fix'd upon the
Ground, your Head lying upon your left Shoulder, and ybur
Beads in your Hand. Th. Why, my Friend, if you mufl
needs be made acquainted with that which dqn't concern
you, I have been at a Show. Vh. What have you been
feeing, the Rope-dancers, or High German Artift, or fome-
ithing of that Nature ? Th. Something pretty like them.
Th. In fKort, yon are the firft Man I ever faw come from a
$how with fuch a Countenance. Th. But let me tell you,
tliis was fuch a Spedacle, that if yourfelf had been a Spec-
fator, perhaps you had been more melancholy than I am.
fh. But prithee tell me what has made you fo religious all
on a fudden ? Th. I come from the Funeral of a Seraph,
fh. \Vhat fay you } v/hy, do the Angels die ? Th. No, but
Angels Fellows do. But not to keep you any longer in Sufpenfe,
I fuppofe you know that famous learned Man Eufebius of Pe-
^ufuim. Th. What, do you mean he that was degraded of
\nfi Authority /rom a Prince, to the State of a private Man,
C 5^1 3
and of a private Man made an Exile, and of an Exile mado
little better than a Beggar; I had like to have faid fome-
thing worfe ? Th. You have hit very right, that's the Man,"
Fb. Why, what's come to him ? Th. He was bury'd to
day, and I am juft come from his Funeral. Th. Sure it
muft have been a very doleful Sight indeed, to put you into
this difmal Mood. Th. I'm afraid I fhall never be able to
tell you what I have feen without weeping. Th. And I am
afraid I fhan't be able to hear it without laughing : But how-
ever, let's have it. Th. You know that Eufebius has been
in a very weak Condition a long Time. Fh. Yes, yes, I know
that his Body has been worn out for this many a Year. Th,
In this fort of flow and confumptive Difeafes Phyficians fre-
quently foretel the Time of a Man's Death to a Day. Fh.
They do fo. Th. They told the Patient, that all the Art
of Man could do towards his Prefervation, had been done
for him already : That God indeed could do what was be-
yond the Power of'Phyfic to effedl, but according to human
Conjecture he had not above three Days to live. Fh. Well,
what did he do then ? Th. The excellent Eufebius imme-
diately flripping himfelf Itark-naked, puts on the Habit of
the moft holy Francis^ has his Head fhav'd, is drefl: in an
afh-colour'd Cowl and Gown, an hempen knotted Girdle,
and cut and flafh'd Shoes. Fh. What, when he was de-
parting this Life } Th. Even fo ; and with a dying Voice
profefs'd, that if it fhould pleafe God to reilore him to the
Health that the Phyficians defpair'd of, he would ferve un-
der Chrift according to the Rule of St. Francis ; and there
were feveral holy Men call'd in to be WitnefTes to this Pro-
feffion. In that Habit dies the famous Man, at the. very
Time that the Phyficians had foretold he would. There
came a great many of the Fraternity to affift at his Funeral
Solemnity. Fh. I wifh I had been prefent at this Sight.
Th. It would have fetch'd Tears from your Eyes, to have
feen with what Tendernefs the Seraphic Fraternity wafh'd
the Body, fitted the holy Habit to it, laid his Hands one
over another in the Form of a Crofs, uncover'd and kifs'd
his naked Feet, and according to the Precept of the Gofpel,
chear'd up his Countenance with Ointment. Fh. What a
prodigious Humility wss this, for the Seraphic Brethren to
take upon them the Office of Waihers and Bearers ? Th.
When this v/as done, they laid it upon the Bier, and accord-
ing to the Doctrine of St. Faul, Bear ye one another^s Bur^
densy the Brethren took the Brother upon their Shoulders,
and carry'd him along the high Way to the Monastery, and
there they interr'd hiro with the ufu^l Songs and Ceremonies;
C s^^ ]
As this venerable Pomp was paffing along the Way, I ob-
ferv'd a great many People, that could not forbear weeping to
fee a Man, that us'd to go in Silk and Scarlet, now wrapt in
a Francifcan's Habit, girded about with a Rope's End, and
the whole Body difpos'din fuch aPofture, as muft needs move
Devotion i for, as I faid, his Head was laid upon his Shoulder,
and his Arms acrofs, and every thing elfe carry'd a wonder-
ful Appearance ofHolinefs. And then the March of the
Seraphic Brethren themfelves with their Heads hanging down,
their Eyes fix'd upon the Ground, and their mourntul Looks,
fo mournful, that I can fcarce think that in Hell itfelf there
can be any thing beyond it, drew Sighs and Tears in Abun-
dance frorn the Beholders. Fh. But had he the five Wounds .
of St Francis too ? Th. I dare not affirm that for a Cer- '
tainty, but I faw fome bluiOi Scars in his Hands and Feet ; ;,
and there was an Hole in the left Side of his Gownj but 1 did ,
not dare to look too narrowly i for they fay many People
have been undone, by being too curious in thefe matters. ^
Th But did you not fee fome that laught too? Th.XQSy^
I did take Notice of fome, but I believe they were Here-|
ticks ; there are too many of them in the World now-a-days '
Th Well, my Theotimus^ to deal honeftly with you, it i nad
been there, in my Confcience, I believe I ihould fcarce I
have been able to forbear laughing too, for Company m Fray |
God you han't got a Spice of that Leaven too ] Th Lrood ■•
Theotimus, there's no Danger of that ; for I have had a great
Veneration for St. Fr^«m from a Child, who, according to
the World, was neither wife, nor learned, but very accepta-
ble to God and Man for the ftrid Mortification of his
worldly Affeftions ; and not only for him, but for all, who
following his Foot-fteps, endeavour from their Hearts to be
dead to fhe World, and to Uve to Chrift. But as to the Ha-
bit itfelf, I value it not; and I would fam know of you,
what a dead Man is the better for a Garment ? Th Xom
tow it 's the Lord's Precept, Hot to caft f-f f/^
Lm., mr to give holy things to Dogs.^ Befides, f you
askOueftions to make yourfelf merry with them. Ill tell
you nothing at aU ; but if you do it with an honeft Defire
Tbebg inform'd, I'll very freelV communicate to you what
I have learn'd from them. tL I profefs ^lyfelf willmg
m learn and promife to be an attentive, teachable, and.
hanM sSolarr^. In the firft Place, you know t^at
there are fome Perfons that are fo ^tnbitious, that it is no
enough for them to have hv'd P^o^^^^y/^^^Vf S^^^
thev muft be bury'd pompoufly too, when they are deaa ,
pt^r^Dead Vfenfible/but yet whil. they are alive,
{.5^5 1
they take fome Pleafure by the Force of Imagination, to think
of the Pomp of their Funerals. Now I fuppofe you will
not deny, but it is fome Degree of Piety to renounce this
vain Affectation. Ph. I will own it, if there be no other
way to avoid the Vanity of pompous Funerals : But in my
Opinion, it is more raodefb for a Prifice, when he is dead, to
be wrapt in a coarfe Winding-fheet, and to be carry'd by
the common Bearers, and interr'd in the common Burying-
place among the common fort of People j for they that were
carry'd, as Eufehius was carry'd, do rather feenj to have
chang'd their Pride than avoided it. Th. It is the Intention
of the Mind that God accepts, and it is His Province only to
judge of Mens Hearts. But what I have told you is but a
fmall matter, there are greater things behind. Pb. What
are they .? Th. They profefs themfelves of the Order of
St. Francis's Rule before their Death. Ph. What, that
they'll obferve it in the Blyfian Fields } Th. No, but in
this World, if they happen to recover, and it oftentimes
has happen'd, that they, that have been given over by the
Phyficians, have, by God's Bleffing, recover'd as foon as ever
they have put on this holy Robe. Ph. Ay, and it often
happens fo to thofe that never put it on at all. Th. We
ought to walk with Simplicity in the way of Faith. If
,there were no extraordinary Advantage in this Cafe, certainly
fo many learned and eminent Perfons, even among the Ita-
lians themfelves, would not be fo defirous of being bury'd
in this holy Habit. But left you fhould objed againft the
Examples of Strangers, I'll tell you that pne whom you very
defervedly had an high Efteem for, was thus bury'd ^ 'Ru*
dolphus Agrkola-t and fo was Chrifiopher LongoUus too. Ph.
I don't regard what Men do, being delirious at the Point
of Death : I would fain have you tell me what good pro-
feffing, or being cloath'd, does a Man, when he comes to be
terrify'd with the Fears of Death, and difcompos'd with
Defpair of Life. Vows are of no Force, unlefe they be
jnade in found Senfe and Sobriety, with mature DeHbera-.
tion, without either Force, Fear, or Guilt. Nay, if nothing
of all this were requir'd, fuch a Vow is not binding till after
the Expiration of the Year of Probation, at which Time
they are commanded to wear the Coat and Hood. This ii
what St. Francis himfelf fays ^ fo that if they recover, they
are at liberty in two refpedts, becaufe a Vow is not binding
that is made by a Man under an Aftonifhment, betwixt the
Hope of Life and the Fear of Death ^ and becaufe Pro-
feffion does not oblige a Man before the wearing of the
jHood. Th. Whether it be an Obligation or no, it is cer^
tam
[ iH ] -
tain they think it one ,* and the Refignation of the whole
Mind is acceptable to God. And this is the Reafon that the
good Works of Monks, if we allow them to be but equal
with other Perfons, are more acceptable to God than thofe
of other Men are, becaufe they fpring from the befl Root.
Th. I fhall not here enter into the Examination of the
Merit of a Man's dedicating himfelf wholly to God, when
he is no longer in his own Power. I take it that every Chri-
ftian delivers himfelf up wholly to God in his Baptifm,
when he renounces all the Pomps and Vanities of Satan, and
lifts himfelf a Soldier to fight under Chrift's Banner all his
Life after. And St. P^«/, fpeaking of thofe that die with
Chrift, that they may live no longer to themfelves^ but to him
that died for them \ does not mean this of Monks only,
but of Chriftians univerfally. Th. You have very feafonably
put me in mind of Baptifm j for in Times paft, if they were
but dip'd or fprinkled at the laft Gafp, there was Hope given
them of eternal Life. Vh. 'Tis no great matter what the Bi-
ihops promife \ but 'tis a matter of great Uncertainty what God
will do j for if it were certain that fuch Men were prefently
made Citizens of Heaven, by having a iittle Water fprinkled
in their Faces, what greater Gap could be laid open, that
worldly Men might all their Life long ferve their filthy Lufts
and Appetites, and then get two or three Drops of Water
fprinkled upon them, when they were not able to fin any lon-
ger ? Now if the fame Rule holds in your ProfefiSon, and this
Baptifm, 'tis very well provided for the wicked, that they
may not be damn'd j that is, that they may live to the De-
vil, and die to Chrift. Th. If it be lav/ful to divulge the
Seraphic Myfteries, the Profeflion of a Francifcan is more
efficacious than Baptifm. Th. What's that you fay } Th.
In Baptifm our Sins are only waih'd away, and the Soul,
tho' it be purg'd, is left naked ; but he that is invefted with
this Profemon, is prefently enrich'd with the egregious Merits
of the whole Order, by being grafi:ed into the Body of the
moft holy Fraternity. Ph. Well, and pray is he that is in-
grafted into the Body of Chrift never the better neither for the
Head nor the Body ? Th. He is never the better for the
Seraphic Body, unlefs he deferves it by fdme fpecial Bounty
or Favour. Th. Pray from what Angel hkd they this Re-
velation ? Th. Let me tell you, not from any Angel, but
Chrift himfelf with his own Mouth reveal'd this, and a
great deal more to St. Francis-^ Face to Face. Th. I intreat
you, if you have any Kindnefs for me, and I adjure you, tell
me what the Difcourfes were. Th. Thefe are deep pro-
found Myfteries, nor is it meet to commit them to profane
lEarsj
Ears. Ph. Why profane, my Friend ?.I never wifh'd better
to any Order than to the Seraphic. Th. But you give them
fhrewd Wipes fometimes. Ph. This is a Sign of Love,
Theotimus. The greateft Enemies of the Order are thofe
ProfefTors of it, that by their ill Lives bring a Scandal upon
it. And whofoever willies well to the Order, can't but be
offended with the Corrupters of it. Th. But I am- afraid
St. Francis will be angry with me, if I_ blab any of his Se-
crets. Ph. What can you be afraid of from fo harmlefs a
Perfon ? Th. What ? why left he fhould ftrike me blind,
or caufe me to run mad, as I am told he has done to many,
who have deny'd the Print of the five Wounds. Ph. Why
then the Saints are worfe in Heaven, than they were upon
Earth. I have heard that St. Francis was of fb meek a
Difpofition, that when Boys out of Roguery would be
throwing Cheefe, Milk, Dirt, and Stones into his homely
Cowl, as it hung down at his Back, he was not at all mov'd
at it, but walk'd on his Way chearful and jileafant ; and
what, is he now become fo angry and revengeful ? And at
another time when one of his Companions call'd him Thief,
facrilegious Murderer, inceftuous Sot, and all the Rogues
he could think on, he thank'd him, confeffing himfelf
guilty. But one of the Company wondering at fuch an
Acknowledgement, I had done worfe than all this, fays
he, unlefs God's Grace had reftrain'd me. How then
comes St. Francis now to be fo vindictive } Th. It is fo :
The Saints, now they are in Heaven, will take no Affront.
Was ever any Man gender than Cornelius., milder than An-
tony-y or more patient than John the Baptifi^ while they
liv'd upon Earth ? But now they are in Heaven, what dread-
ful Difeafes do they fend among us, if we do not worfhip
them as we fhould do ? Ph. I am of Opinion that they
rather cure our Difeafes than caufe them. But however,
afTure yourfelf, that what you fay to me, you fay to a Man
that is neither profane, nor a Blab. Th. Well, come on
then, dependiug upon your Secrecy, I'll tell you fomething
relating to this Matter. Good St. Francis., I intreat thee
. and the Society, that I may have your Leave to relate what
I have heard. St. Paul, you know, was endow'd with an
hidden Wifdom, which he did not communicate openly, but
in private, to fuch as were perfed. So have the Seraphicks
alfo certain Myfteries, which they do not make common, but
only communicate them in private to certain bleflfed Widows,
and other choice and godly People, that are WeU-wifhers to
the Seraphic Society. Ph. I am impatient to hear this tri-
ple holy Revelation. Th. In the firft place, the Lord fore-
told
told tlie Seraphic Patriarch, that the more the Seraphic
Society increas'd, the more abundantly he would make Pro*
vifion Tor them. Ph. So then, at firlt Dafh here are thofe
Peoples Mouths ftop'd, who complain that thofe People
grow more numerous every Day, are a Burden to the Pub-
lic. Th. And fecondly. He difcover'd this, that annu-
ally upon St. Francis's Day, all the Souls not only of the
Brotherhood, who wear the holy Habit, but alfo of thofe
who wifh well to that Order, and are Benefa6tors to the Bro- i
therhood, ihould be difcharg'd from the Fire of Purgatory <<
Fh. Why, did Chrift talk fo familiarly with him ? Th.
Why not .? Yes he did, as familiarly as one Friend or Com-
panion would with another. God the Father convers'd
with Mofes j and Mofes communicated the Law fo deli-
ver'd to him, to the People : Chrift publifh'd the Evan-
gelical Law, and St. Fraruis deliver'd two Copies of his
Law, that had been written by the Hands of an Angel, to
the Seraphic Fraternity. Ph. I want to hear the third Re-
velation. Th. The worthy Patriarch wis in Fear, left the evil
one lliould corrupt, by Night, the good Seed which had been
fbwn, and the Wheat ftiould be rooted up with the Tares.
The Lord likewife freed him from this Scruple, promifmg
him, that He would take it into His Care, that none of the
halt-fhod. Rope-girded Tribe, fhould ever mifcarry, even
till the Day of Judgment. Ph. Oh, the Kindnefs of God !
If it were not fo, the Church of God would be undone. But
go on. Th. And then fourthly, He difcover'd to him, that
none that liv'd impioufly iliould long perfevere in that Or-
der. Ph. Why, does not he that lives wickedly fall from
the Order ? Th. No more than he that lives wickedly de-
nies Chrift ; akho' in a Senfe they may be faid to deny God,
who profefs Him in Words, but in Works deny Him. But
whofoever has caft off the holy Habit, he irreparably tails
from the Order. Ph. What ftiall we fay then of fo many
Monafteries of Conventuals who have Money, drink, game,
whore, and keep Concubines publickly ,• no: to mention any
thing elfe. Th. St. Francis never wore a Garment of that
Colour, I mean a grey, nor a Girdle of white Linen j and
therefore, when they come to knock at Heaven Gates, it
will be faid to them, I never knew you, for that they have
not on the Wedding-Garment. . Ph. Well, what, have you
any more ? Th. You have heard nothing yet to what is be-
hind. In the fifth Place, He made known to Him, that thofe
who were Enemies to the Seraphic Order, fuch as there are
but too many, the more is the Pity, fliould never live half
the Time God had appointed them, without making-away
witn
[ 5^7 1
with themfelves j and that unlefs they anticipated their Fate^
they (hould fuddenly come to a miferable End. Tb. We
have, among abundance of other Inftances, feen that made
good in Matthevj Cardinal oi Sedunum^ who had a very ill
Opinion, and fpoke ill of the half-fhod Fraternity ,• for he
died, I think, before he was full 50 Years of Age. Th. You
fay very right ; but then he had done Injury to the Cherubic
Order likewife : For, they fay, it was brought about chiefly
by his Management, that the four 'Dommkans were burnt
at Bern-y when otherwife they would have overcome the
Pope's Refentment by Money. Vh. But they fay they had
begun to ad a Piece of moft monftrous Impiety. They at-
tempted, by falfe Vifions and Miracles, to perfuade People,
that the Virgin Mary was polluted with original Sin, and
that St. Francis had not the genuine Marks of Chrifi's
Wounds, and that Catharina Senenjis had them more au-
thenticly i but had promis'd the moft perfed of them al!
to the Lay-man they had converted, and fuborn'd to ad this
Farce, and had abus'd the Body of the Lord, to carry on the
Impofture, and afterwards with Clubs and Poifons. And in
the laft Place they fay, that this Projed was not carry'd on by
one Univerfity only, but by all the Heads of the whole Or-
der. Th. Let that be as it will, it was not without Reafon
that God faid. Touch not mine Anointed. Vh. I want to
hear what is to come. Th. The fixth Revelation \^ behind,
in which the Lord fware to him, that thofe that were Fa-
vourers of the Seraphic Order, how wickedly foever they
liv'd, fhould one Time or other obtain Mercy from the Lord,
and end their wicked Life with a bleflfed Death. Vh. What
if .they fKould be caught arid kill'd in the very Ad of Adul-
tery ? Th. What God has promis'd, cannot fail of being
perform'd. Vh. But what is it that they interpret Favour
and Good-Will by ? Th. Oh ! do you doubt of that ? He
that gives them Prefents, that cloaths them, furnifhes their
Kitchen, he loves them long ago. Vh. But does he not love
thofe that give them Admonitions and Inftrudions ? Th.
They have enough of thofe Things at home; and it is their
Profeffion to beftow thefe Benefits on other Perfons, and noc
to receive them from them, Vh. Then the Lord has pro-
mis'd more to the Difciples of St. Francis^ than he has to
his own. He indeed fuffersit to be imputed to Him, if any
thing be done for his Sake to a Chriftian, but he never pro.
mis'd Salvation to fuch as live wickedly. Th. That's no
Wonder, my Friend j for the tranfcendent Power of the Gof.
pel is referv'd for this Order. But you fhall now hear the
■feventh and laft Revelation. Vh. I am ready to hear it.
Th.
. C i^8 ]
!r-&. The Lord fware to him, that none fhould make an ili
End, who dy'd in a Francijcans Habit. Th. But what is it,
that you call an ill End ? Th. Why, he makes an ill End,
that when his Soul leaves the Body, it goes down dired:ly into
Hell without any Redemption. Vh. But what then, does not
the Habit deliver from the Fire of Purgatory .? Th. No, unlels
a Perfon dies in it upon St. Francis's Day. But don't you
think it is a great Thing to be freed from Hell .? Fh. Yes,
I think it is the greateft of all. But what muft we think
of thofe Peribns, who are put into the Habit, after they are
dead, and don't actually die in it } Th. If they defire it in
their LiFe-time, the Will is taken for the Deed. Fh. When
I was at Antwerp, I was prefent in the Company of the Re-
lations of a Woman, that was juft giving up the Ghoft.
There was a Francijca-a by, a very reverend Man, who ob-
ferving the Woman to yawn, put one of her Arms into
the Sleeve of his Garment, fo that it cover'd that Arm, and
Part of the Shoulder ; and there was "a Difpute rais"d upon
it, whether the whole Woman fhould be fafe froin the Gates
of Hell, or that Part only which had been cover'd. Th;
Why, the v/hole Woman was fecur'd i as it is in Baptifm,
but Part of the Perfon is dip'd in the Water, but the whole
Perfon is made a Chriftian. Fh. It is wonderful, what a
Dread the Devils have of this Habit. Th. They dread it
more than they do the Crofs of Chrlft- When Etffebius was
carry 'd to the Grave, I faw, and fo did many others befides
me. Swarms of black Devils, like Flies, buzxing about the
Body, and llriking at it ; but not one of them durft to touch
it. Fh. But in the mean Time his Face, his Hands, and his
Feet were in Danger, becaufe they were bare. Th. As a
Snake will not come near the Shadow of an- Aili, let it fpread
ever fo far ; fo the Devils are fenfible of the Venom of the
holy Garment at a great EJifbance. Fh. Why then, T be-
lieve, fuch Bodies do not putrify ; if they do, the Worms
have more Courage than the Devils. Th. What you fay is
very probable. Fh. How happy are the Lice, which always
live in that holy Garment ! But when the Garment is
going to the Grave, what becomes of the Soul ? Th. Why
the Soul carries away with it the Influence of the Garment,
and renders it fecure ; fo that a great many will not allow,
that any of that Order do go at all to Purgatory. Fh. In
Truth, if this Revelation were true, I would efteem it at an
higher Rate than that of St. John ; for this fliews us an
eaTy and a ready Way, without Labour, Trouble, or Repen-
tance, to efcape eternal Mifery, and yet to live all our Life
long merrily. Th. It is fo. 'Fh. From henceforth I fliall
leave
C i^p ]
leave off admiring at the great Deference that To many pay
to the Seraphic Fraternity : But I ftand in great admiration
that any Man fhould dare to open his Mouth againft them.
Th. You may obferve where-ever you fee them, that they are
Perfons given over to a reprobate Mind, and blinded in their
Wickednefs. Th. I will for the future be more cautious than
I have been, and take care to die in a Francifcan Habit. But
there are feme rifen up in our Age who will have it, that
a Man is juftified only by Faith, without the help of good
Works ; but it is the greateft Privilege in the World to be
feved by a Garment without Faith. Th. Don't miftake me,
Phi/acous ^ I don't fay fimply without Faith, but with this
Faith of believing, that the things I have told you were pro-
mifed by our Saviour to the Patriarch St. Frauds. Ph. But
will this Garment fave a Turk ? Th. It would fave the
Devil himfelf, if he would but fuffer it to be put on him,
and could but believe this Revelation. Ph. Well, thou halt
won me for ever j but I have a Scruple or two more, that I
would defire you to clear up for me. Th. Let me hear
them. Ph. I have heard that St. Franris has faid his Or-
der was of evangelical Inftitution. Th. True. Ph. Nov/ I
thought that all Chriftians had profefs'd the Rule of the
Gofpel; but if the Francifcaris Order be a Gofpel one,
then all Chriftians ought to be Francijcans-, and Chrift him-
felf, his Apoftles, and the Virgin-Mother at the head of
them. Th. It would be fo indeed, unlefs St. Francis had
added fome things to the Gofpel of Chrift. Ph. What
things are they ? Th. An A.lh-colour'd Garment, an Hem-
pen Girdle, and naked Feet. Ph. Well then, by thefe
Marks we may know an evangelical Chriftian trom a Fran-
cifcan^ may we ? Th. But they differ too in the point of
touching Money. Ph. But, as I am inform'd, St. Francis
forbids the receiving of it, not the touching of it ^ but the
Owner, or the Prodor, the Creditor, the Heir, or the
Prox'y does commonly receive it ; and tho' he draws it over
with, his Glove on, and does not touch it, neverthelefs he
is faid to receive it. Whence then came this new Interpre-
tation, that not to receive it, is not to touch it ? Th. This
was the Interpretation of Pope Benedi^. Ph. But not as
a Pope, but only as a Francifcan. And then again, do not
the moft ftrict of the Order take Money in a Clout, when
it is given them in their Pilgrimages ? Th. They do in a
Cafe of Neceffity. Ph. But a Man fhould rather die than
violate fo fuper-evangelical a Rule. And then, do th?y not
receive Money every-where by their Officers ? Th. Why
ihould they nor, and that thoufands and thoufands too, as
M m they
C 530 3
tbcy do frequently i Ph. But the Rule fays,, not by them-
felves, nor by any body elfe. Th. Well, but they don'c
touch it. Ph. O ridiculous i if the Touch be impious, they
touch it by others. Th. But that is the Ad and Deed of
the Prodors, not their ov/n. Ph. Is it not fo ? Let him '
try it that has a mind to it. Th. We never read that Chrift
touch'd Money. Ph. Suppofe it, tho' it is very probable
that, when he was a Youth, he might buy Oil, and Vine-
gar, and Salads for his Father: But Peter and Paul, wiih-
out all controverfy, touch'd it. The Virtue confifts in the
Contempt of Money, and not in the not touching of it. It
is much more dangerous to touch Wine, than to touch Money ;
why are they not afraid of that? Th. Becaufe St. Francif
did not forbid it. Ph. Do they not readily enough offer their
Hands, which they keep foft with Idlenefs, and white with
Waihes, to pretty Wenches ? but, blefs me ! if you offer
them a piece of Money to look upon, and fee if it he good,
how do they ftart back and crofs themfelves ! Is not this an
evangelical Nicety .^ In truth, I believe St. Francis j as illi-
terate as he was, was never fo filly as to have abfolutely for-
bid all touching of Money. And if that were his Opinion,
to how great a danger did he expofe his Followers, in com-
manding them to go barefoot ? for it is fcarce poffible, but
that one time or another, they mi^ht unawares tread upon
Money lying on the ground. Th. Well, but then they don't
touch it with their Hands. Ph. V/hy, pray is not the Senfc
of touching common to the whole Body ? Th. But in cafe
any fuch tiding fhould fall out, they do not officiate after it
till tliey have been at Confefhon. Ph. 'Tis confcientioufly
done. Th. But without cavilling. Til tell you how it is;
Money ever was, and ever will be, the Occafion of very great
Evils to many Pcrfons. Ph. I allow it : But then, on the other
hand, it is an Inftrument of as much good to others. I find
^e inordinate Love of Money to be condemned j but I no-
where find Money itfclf to befo. Th. You fay very well j but
that we may be kept at greater diftance from the Difeafe of
Covetoufnefs, we are forbid to touch Money, as we are forbid
by the Gofpel to fwear at all, that we may be kept from Per-
jury. Ph. Why then is not the Sight of Monev forbidden
too ? Th. Becaufe it is eafier to govern our Hanas than Eyes.
Th. And yet Death it felf entred into the World at thofe
Windows. Th. And therefore your true Ffancifcam pull
their Cowls over their Eye-brows, and walk with their Eyes
cover'd and fixt upon the ground, that they may fee nothing
■ but their Way, juft like Carriers Hor fes, that have Winkers
«n each fide of their Head-geer, that they may fee, nothing
but
[ 531 ]
but what is before them, and at their Feet. Th. B,Lit tell
me, is it true as I hear, that they are forbidden by their
Order to> receive any Indulgences from the Pope ? Th. They
are fo. Fh. But as I am inForm'd, there are no Men in the
World that hiive more of them than they ha^e^ fo that they
are allow'd either to poifon, or bury alive, thofs that they
themfelves have condemn'd, without any dan?;er of beiag
called to account for it. Th.. What you have heard is no
Fidioni for I was told once by a Po/ar:d?r, and a Man of
Credit too, that he, having gotten drunk, fell faft afleep in
the Francifcans Church, m one of the Corners where the
Women lit to make their Confeilions thro' a Lattice ; and
being awak'd by the iinging of their Notiurns-i according to
Cuflom, he did not dare to difcover himfelf •• and when the
Office was over, the whole Fraternity went down into the
Vault, where there was a large deep Grave ready made,
and there (lood two young Men with their Hands tied behind
them : There was a Sermon preached in praife of Obe-
dience, and a Promife of God's Pardon for all their Sins,
and fome hope given them that God would incline the .Minds
of the Brotherhood to Mercy, if they would voluntarily go
down into the Grave, and lay themfelves upon their Backs
there. They did fo, and as foon as they were down, tha
Ladders were drawn up, and the Brethren all together flung
the Dirt UDon them. Ph. Well, but did the Polander fay
nothing all the while? Th. No, not a word ^ he was afraid,
if he had difcover'd himfelf, he iliould have made the third
Perfon. Ph. But can they juftify this ? Th. Yes, they may
as often as the Honour of the Order is called in queilion j
for he, as foon as he had made his Efcape, told what he had
feen in all the Companies he came into, to the great Scan-
dal of the whole Seraphic Order. And had it not been bet-
ter now that this Man had been buried alive ? Ph. It may
be it had j But omitting thefe Niceties, how comes it that
when their Patriarch has ordered them to go barefoot, they
now go commonly half-lhod? Th. This InjuncSHon was
moderated for two Reafons, the one for fear they Ihould
tread upon Money unawares^ the other lefb Cold, or Thorns,
or Snakes, or Flint, or any {uch thing fliould hurt them,
fince they arc oblig'd to travel barefoot all the World over ;
But hov/ever that that might be, and the Dignity of the
Rule preferved inviolable, the Slaflies in the Shoes thcw
the naked Foot, and fo fulfil the Rule by Synecdoche.
Th. They value themfelves much upon their profeiihig
(evangelical Perfe(ftion, which, they fay, confifts in evange-^
Jical Precepts i but about thcfe Precepts ihe Learned them-
[ i32 ]
felv€s have hot Difputes. And in every State of Life there
is room for evangelical Perfedion. But now which do you
reckon the moft perfed of the Gofpel Precepts ? Th. I be-
lieve that you find in the fifth of Matthe-w which ends
thus, Love your Erje7//ies, do good to them that hate you,
and fray for tbofe that perfecute you and revile you^ that
you may be the Children of your Father inho is in Heaven,
ivho maketh his Sun to pine upon the good and the evil, and
fendeth Rain upon the jufi a?id the unjuji : therefore be ye
perfeEiy as your heavenly Father is perfeSi. Ph. You have
anfwer'd very pertinently j but then our Father is rich and
munificei^t to all People, asking nothing, of any Man. Th.
And fo are they bountiful too, but it is of fpiritual things, of
Prayers and good Works, in which they are very rich. . Ph.
I would there were among them more Examples of that
evangelical Charity, that returns Bleffings for Curfings, and
Good for Evil. What is the meaning of that celebrated
Saying of Pope Alexander, Tis fafer to affront the mofl
powerful Prince, than any one fingle Francifcan or Domi-
nican ? Th. It is lawful to avenge an Injury ofFer'd to the
Dignity of the Order ; and what is done to the leafl of them,
is done to the whole Order. Ph. But why not rather the
, Good that is done to one, i^ done to the whole Order ? And
why fhall not an Injury done to one Chriftian engage all
Chriltendom in Revenge ? Why did not St. Paul, when
he was beaten and ftoned, call for Succour againft the Ene-
mies of his apofbolical Charadrer ? Now, if according to
the Saying of our Saviour, it be more bleffed to give than
receive, certainly he that lives and teaches well, and gives
of his own to thofe that are in want, is much perfe6ter than
he that is only on the receiving hand ; or otherwife St. Paul's
Boaft of preaching the Gofpel gratis is vain and idle. It
feems to me to be the beft Proof of an evangelical Difpofi-
tion, that Perfons are not angry when -reproached, and have
a Chriflian Charity for thofe that ill deferve it. What
great matter is it for a Man to relinquifli fomething of his
own, to live better upon that which is another Body's, and
to referve to.himfelf a Defire of Revenge ? The World is
full every where of this half-fliod, rope-girt fort of People ;
but there is fcarce one of them to be found that prefles after
that which Chrift calls Perfedion, and the Apoflles con-
ftantly pradifed. Th. I am no Stranger to the Stories that
wicked Perfons tell of them ; but for my own part, where-
ever I fee the facrcd Habit, t think the Angels of God are
by ; and count that a happy Houfe, whofe Threfhold is moft
worn by their Feet. Ph. And I am of opinion, that Women
» are
[ S33 ]
are no where more fruitful than where thefe Men are moft
familiar. But I beg St. Francis's Pardon, Theotimus, for
being fo much out of the way. I really took tlieir Habit
to be no more than a Garment, nor one jot better than a
Sailor's Jacket, or a Shoemaker's Coat, fetting afide the Holi-
nels of the Perfon that wears it. As the Touch of our Sa-
viour's Garment cured the Woman with the bloody liTue j
or elfe I could not fatisfy myfelf whether I was to thank the
Weaver, or the Taylor, for the Virtue of it. Th. Without
doubt he that gives the Form gives the Virtue. ■ Ph. Well
then, for time to come I'll live more merrily, and not tor-
ment my felf with the Fear of Hell, the Tediouihefs of
Confeflion, or the Torment of Repentance.
M m 3
AMI<
[ 534 ] T
A M I G I T I A, or Frkndfiip,
The A R. G u iM E M r.
Amicltia /-^ij^/j of the Sympathy and Antipathy of things,
A Serpent is an Enemy to Mankind and Lizards : He'
loves Milk^ hates the S7nell ofGarlick, A Crocodile is A
mortal Enemy to Mankind. A Dolphin is a greater
Lover of thetn. Every hind of Animal by mere injlin^f
fears its Enemy. A Horje mortally hates a Bear. An
Elephant loves a Man wonderfully^ hut hates a Dra-
gon^ a Moufe,and a Swallow. A Dog is a very friendly
Creature to Man, and a Wolf as great an Enemy, fo
that the very fight of him Jlrikes a Man dumb. A
Spider is a great Enemy to a Serpent and a 'Toad, A
^cad is cured immediately by eating ofPlantane. The
Hifory of a Monk that was refcued by a Toad. An
Ape is ve^y feafful cf a Tortoife ; an Acanthis of an
Afs i a Beetle of an Eagle ; a Dove of a Hawk. A
Lion is flriick 'with fear by the crowing of a Cock. A
Monkey admires Coneys. The Boxfree chajes away Ser-
pents. Moths are -tui'ned into Butterflies, and being
dead arefenfible of the Touch of aSpider. Even a dead
Body detcois a Murderer. An Oak has an Enmity to
an Olive-tree, and a Walnut-tree \ a Vine to a Cole-
wort. Garlick is very friendly to Lillies. Rivers have
their Antipathy : Winds, Stars, and Genii, are fome
of them friendly, others noxious. Oxen love one Com-
panion^ but hate another. Men have afecret Antipathy
againfl fome Perfons. Boys themfelves love one Play-
fellow, but fJoun the Company of another. Erafmus at
eight years of age had a mortal Averfion to a Lyar^
hy fome fecret Guidance of Nature. Every one ought
to avoid that way of Livelyhood, that he has a natural
Averfion to. We ought to__ have Charity for all, but
Familiarity with very few,
•^ EPHO-
I SBS ]
EPHORINUS and JOHN.
Ep. r Often admire with my felf^what God Nature confulted
*■ when it intermixt certain fecret Amities and Enmi-
ties in all things, for which there is no probable Reafon to be
given, unlefs for her own Entertainment, as we fet Cocks
and Quails a fighting to make us Diverfion. joh. I don't
very well take in what you aim at. Epb. Well then, I'll
tell you in familiar Inftances : You know that Serpents ge-
nerally are Enemies to Mankind, ^oh. I know there is an
old Enmity betwixt them and us, and an irreconcileable
one ; which will be fo as long as we remember that unlucky
Apple. Eph. Do you know the Lixard ? Joh. Why not ?
Eph. There are very large green ones in Ifaljf. This Crea-
ture is by Nature very friendly to Mankind, and an utter
Enemy to Serpents, j^oh. How does this appear? Eph.
Which way foever a Man turns his Face they will gather
about him, turn their Heads toward him, look ftedfaftly in
his Face, and view him a longtime: If he fpits, they will
lick up his Spittle j nay, I have feen 'em drink up a Boy's
Pifs. They fufFer themfelves to be handled by Boys, and
will fuffer themfelves to be hurt by them without doing
them any harm j and if you put 'em to your Mouth, they
love to hck your Spittle ; but if you catch them, and fet
them a fighting together, it is wonderful to fee how fierce
they are, and will not at all meddle with him that fet them
a fighting. If any one is walking in the Fields in a hoUow
Way, by ruftling the Bufhes fometimes in one place, ^n4
fometimes in another, they will make him take notice of them.
One that is not acquainted with it, would think they were
Serpents ; when you look at them they turn their Heads to
look at you till you ftand ftill j if you go on, they follow you;
and if a Man be doing any thing, they will make him take
notice of them. You would think they were fporting, and
mightily delighted with the Sight of a Man. ^oh. Tis
very admirable. Eph. I faw once a very large and charming
green Lizard fighting with a Serpent, at the Entrance of a
Hole j I wondrcd at firft what was the meaning of it, for
I could not fee the Serpent ; an Italian told me that the
Serpent was within ^ by and by the Lizard comes to us, as
it were fhewing us her Wounds, and begging a Remedy, and
did not only fuffer her felf to be touch'd, but as often as we
flood ftill nie Itood ftil!, viewing us very earneftly. The
Serpent had ahnoil gnawed away one of her Sides, and of
green had made ic red. Joh. Had I been there, I Ihould
M m J. hare
have had a mind to avenge the Lizard's Quarrel. Eph. But
her Enemy had hid herfelf in the bottom of the Hole : But
fome Days afcer we had the Pleafure to fee her revenge her-
felf, yob. I am glad at my Heart i but prithee how was
it ? Ep. We happened to be walking near the fame Place,
and the Serpent had been drinking at a Spring hard by,
for it was fo violent hot Weather, that we were like to pe-
rifh with Thirft. A Boy of about tliir teen. Years old, the
Man's Son where we lodg'd, having fled from Bmmiia for
. fear of the Peftilence, happen'd very luckily to come by,
with a Hay-r^ke upon his Shoulder j as foon as he fav/ the
Serpent he cries out. Job. Perhaps for Fear. Ep. No, for
Joy, rejoicing that he had found the Enemy. The Boy
ftrikes him with the Rake, the Serpent rolls himfelf up ^
• but he laid on, till, having broke his Head, the Serpent
flretch'd himfelf out, which they never do, but when they
are dying j that's the reafon that you have heard the Apo-
logift, concerning a Crab-fifh, who killing a Serpent that
• was his Enemy, when he faw him ftretch^d out, fays tjius.
You ought to have gone fo when you v/ere alive. Job. That
, was bravely done ,• but how then ? Ep. The Boy takes him
upon his Rake, and hangs him upon a Shrub over the Cave,
and in a few Days time we faw the Leaves tindtur'd with the
Blood of the Serpent. The Husbandmen of that Place re-
lated to us a wonderful ftrange thing for a certain Truth ;
that the Countrymen, being weary fometlmes, deep in that
Field, and have fometimes with them a Pitcher of Milk,
which ferves both for Viduals and Drink ; that Serpents are
great Lovers of Milk, and fo it often happens, that they come
in their way : But they have a Remedy for that. Job. Pray
what is it? Ep. They dawb the Brims of the Pitcher with
Garlick, and the Smell of that drives away the Serpents. Job.
What docs Horace mean then, when he fays Garlick is a
Poifon more hurtful than Henbane, when you fay it is an An-
tidote againfl: Poifon ? Ep. But hear a little, I have fome-
thing to tell you that is worfe than that : They often creep
flily into the Mouth of a Man, that lies llceping with his Moutti
open, andfo wind themfelves into his Stomach. Job. And,
does not a Man die immediately, that has entcrtain'd fuch
a Gueffc ? Ep. No, but lives moffc mifcrably ; nor is there
any Remedy, but to feed the Man wirh Milk, and other
Things that the Serpent loves. Job. What, no Remedy
againit fuch a Calamity ? Ep. Yes, to eat abundance of
Garlick. Job. No wonder then. Mowers love Garlick.
Ep. But thofe that are tired with Heat and Labour,
have their Remedy another way ^ for, when they are
ill
t i57 ]
in danger of this Misfortune? very often a Lizard, though
but a little Creature, faves a Man. Job. How can he fave
him ? £/>. When he perceives a Serpent lying perdue, in
wait for the Man, he runs about upon the Man's Neck and
Face, and never gives over, till he has waked the Man by
tickling him, and clawing him gently with his Nails i and
afToon as the Man wakes, and fees the Lizard near him, he
knows the Enemy is fomewhere not far off in Ambufcade ;
and looking about, feizes him. foh. The wonderful Power
of Nature ! £/>. Now, there is no living Creature that \^ k>
great an Enemy to a Man as a Crocodile, who oftentimes
devours Men whole, and affifts his Malice by an Artifice ;
having fucked in Water, he makes the Paths flippery where
they go to the N//(? to draw Water, and when they fall down,
there fwallows 'em up. Nor can you be ignorant, that Dol-
phins, that live in a quite different Element, are great Lovers
of Men. Job. I have heard a very famous Story of a Boy
who was beloved by one j and a more famous one than that,
about Arion. Ep. Befides that, in catching Mullets the
Fifhermen make ufe of the Affiftance of Dolphins inftead of
Dogs J and when they have caught their Prey, give them
Part for their Pains. Nay, more than that, they fufe them -
felves to be chaftifed, if they commit any Fault in their
hunting them. They frequently appear to Mariners at Sea,
rejoicing and playing upon the top of the Waves ; fometimes
fwimming to the Ship iides, and leaping over the fpread Sails,
they are fo delighted with the Converfation of Men. But
again, as a Dolphin is fo very great a Lover of Men ; fo he
is a mortal Enemy to the Crocodile. He goes out of the
Sea, and dares to venture into the River Nile, where the
Crocodile domineers, and attacks the monftrous Animal that
is defended with Teeth, Claws, and Scales more impenetra-
ble than Iron j when he himfelf is not very well framed for
biting neither, his Mouth inclining to his Breaft : Yet, for
all that, he runs violently upon his Enemy, and coming near
him, diveth down on a fudden, gets under his BeUy, and
fetting up his Fins, pricks him in the foft Part of his Belly ■,
which is, the only Place he can be wounded in. Job. It is
a wonderful thing, that an Animal fliould know his Enemy,
tho' he never faw him before in his Life j and to know, both
why he fliould be attack'd, and where he can be hurt, and
how to defend himfelf, when a Man has not that Faculty j
who would not have Senfe enough to be afraid of a Bafilisk,
unlcfs he were warned before-hand, and taught by havino-
received f lavm. E/». A Horfe, you know, is a Creature de-
yated to the Service of Man ; and there is a capital Enmity
be-
C iis 3
tetween him and a Bear, that is an Enemy to Man : He
knows his Enemy, rho' he has never feen him before, and pre-
fently prepares himfelf to engage him. Job. What Arms does
he fight with? £/>. Rather with Art than Strength : He leaps
Over the Enemy, and flrilies his hind Legs on his Head.
The Bear, on the other hand, claws at the fofc Part of the
Horfe's Belly. The Poifon of an Afp is incurable to a Man :
«nd the Ichneumon makes war wiih the Afp, and is likewile
a mortal Enemy to the Crocodile. An Elephant is alfo very
well affeded toward Mankind \ for they very kindly ihew
the Way to a Traveller that has happened to lofe it ; and
they know and love their Teacher. There are likewife Ex-
amples of an extraordinary Love toward Mankind : For, one
of them fell in love with an JEgyptian Maid that Ibid Gar-
lands i and another lov'd Menander of Syracufe fo affedlio-
nately, that he would not eat his Vidual^. v hen he was out
of his iight. But not to mention any more of this na-
ture, tho' there is abundance related : When King Bacchus
had a mind to exercife his Cruelty toward 30 Petf/ns, he
determined to expofe them, bound to Stakes, to fb many
Elephants; but they that were fent out among the Ele>
phants, to provoke them, could never bring them to be Exe-
cutioners of the King's Cruelty. There is likewife a ve'y
deftrudivC' Antipathy between this Creature, fo friend I y lo
Mankind, and the Indian Dragons, which are reported to '.. e
the largeft that are ; fo that they oftentimes boih perifli in
the Engagement. There is the like Difagreement between
the Eagle and the leiTer Dragon, altho' it is harmlefs rewards
Men ; as it has been reported to have borne amorous Affec-
tions towards certain Maidens. There is likewife a deadly
Enmity between the Eagle and the Cymindia, or Night-
Hawk. And alfo an Elephant hates a Moute, a troublcfom
Creature to Mankind, and won't touch a Bit of Provender
that it fees a Moufe in j nor is there any manifeft Caufe
why it hates him fo : It is with good Reafon it hates the
Horfe-leech ; becaufeif it happens to fup it up in its Drink,
it torments him miferably. There is fcarce any Animal that
is more friendly to Man than a Dog is, nor a greater Enemy
to him than a Wolf, fo that a Man lofes his Speech if he
fees him ; and between thefe two there is the utmoft Difcord;
as a Wolf is the moft bitter Enemy to Sheep, which have rheir
depcndancc merely upon the Providence of Mankind, whofe
Care it is to defend this harmlefs Creature made for the Nou-
riihrncnt of Man. They are all in Arms againft the Wolf, as
againil: the commonEnemy of iViduktnd, eipocially th? whole
Army of Dogs , ib that it is grown into a Proverb^ JV/ give
[ 559 1
you ta more quarter than a Dog does t« a Wolf. The Sea-
Hare is an incurable Poifon to Mankind, if any body tafte it
unawares j again, on the other hand, the Touch of a Man is
Death to that Hare. A Panther is a very fierce Beaft to-
wards a Man ^ and yet is fo afraid of a Hysena, that it does
not dare to engage him ^ and hence they fay, that if any
body carry a Piece of a Hycena Skin about him, a Panther
won't fet upon him, there is fuch a Sagacity injcheir natural
Senfe : and they add alfo, that if you hang their two Skins
one over againft the other, the Panther Hair will fall offi
A Spider is an Animal that is one of a Man's own Family,
but is very deftmdtive to a Serpent i fo that if he happpen to
fee a Serpent funning himfelf under a Tree, it will fpin down
and fix his Sting fo marply. in his Forehead, that the Serpent
will roll himfelf up, and die at laft. I have heard it told by
thofe that have feen it, that there is the like Enmity be-
tween a Toad and a Spider j but that the Toad" cures him-
felf, when he is wounded, by biting of a Plantane Leaf I'U
tell you an Engli/h Story : I fuppofe you know 'tis the Cuf-
tom there to ftrew the FIoot with green Rufhes ; a certain
Moiik had carried fome Bundles of thefe Rufhes into his
Chamber, to fbrew them at his leifure ; and happening to
take a nap after Dinner, a great Toad creeps out and gets
upon his Mouth while he lay aileep, fixing his Feet, two up-
on his upper and two upon his under Lip. To draw off the
Toad was certain Death ; to let him be there was worfe than
Death it felf Some perfuaded that the Monk ftiould be
carried and kid upon his Back in the Window where a great
Spider had his Web. It was done : The Spider prefently
feeing her Enemy, fpinsdown, darts her Sting into the Toad,
and runs up again to her Web j the Toad fwelled, but was
not gotten off. The Spider fpins down a fecond time, and
gives him another Wound; it fwells more, but ftill is alive :
The Spider repeats it a third time ; then the Toad takes oflF
his Feet and drops off dead. This piece of Service the Spi-
der did her Landlord, yoh. you tell me a wonderful ftrangc
Story. Ep. I'll tell you now not what I have heard, but
what I have feen with my own Eyes. An Ape has an un-
meafarable Averfion to a Tortoife j a certain Perfon gave
fne a Specimen of this when I was at Rome : He fet a Tor-
toife upon the Head of his Servant, and put his Hat upon it,
and then brought him to the Monkey ; the Ape prefently,
with much Alacrity, leaps upon the Lad's Shoulders to carch
Lice in his Head, and taking off his Hat (pies the Tortoife.
It was amaxing to fee with what Horror he leap'd away,
)iQW frighted be wa<^, and with what Fearfulnefs he look'd
bick
[ i4o ]
back to fee whether the Tortoife follow'd him or not. There
was Hkewife another Specimen : The Tortoife was tied to
the Monkey's Chain, that he could not avoid feeing him. It
is incredible how much he was tormented j he was almoft
dead with Fear : fometimes turning his Back, he would en-
deavour to beat off the Tortoife with his hinder Feet j at
laft, he pifs'd and fhit towards him all that was in his Belly,
and with the Fright fell into fuch a Fever, that we were
forced to let him loofe, and put him into a Bath made of
Wine and Water. Job. There was no Reafon that the Mon-
key fliould be afraid of the Tortoife. £j>. There may, per-
haps, be fomething natural in it, that we are not acquainted
with. Why a Linnet fliould hate an Afs, is eafily accounted
for; becaufe he rubs himfelf againft the Thorns, and eats ofE
the Flowers of the Hedge where flie makes her Neft ;
and fhe is fo affrighted at the Sight of an Afs, that if fhe
hear him bray, tho' it be a great way off, fhe throws down
her Eggs, and her young ones fall out of the Neft for fear.
But however, fhe does not fuffer him to pafs unrevenged.
yoh. How can a Linnet do any hurt to an Afs } Ep. She
pecks his fore Back, that is gall'd with Blows and Burdens,
and the foft part of his Nofe. We may alfo guefs at the
Caufe, why there is a mutual Grudge between the Fox and
the Kite, becaufe the ravenous Fowl is always laying wait
to catch the Foxes Whelps i and very likely, on the other
hand, that the Fox does the fame by her young ones ; which
is the Caufe of the Diffenfion between the Rat and the
Heron. And the fame Reafon may be given for the Enmity
between the little Bird call'd a Merlin and the Fox ; the Mer-
lin breaks the Crows Eggs ; the Foxes perfecute them, and
they the Foxes, pecking their Whelps, which the Crows fee-
ing, join their AfTiftance, as againft a common Enemy. But I
can't find out any Reafon, why the Swan and the Eagle, the
Raven and the Green-Bird, the Rook and the Owl, the Eagle
and the Wren, fhould hate one another j unlefs it be, that
the latter hates the Eagle becaufe he is called the King of
Birds. Why fhould an Owl be an Enemy to fmall Birds, a
Weefel to a Crow, a Turtle-Dove to a Candle-Fly, the Ich-
neumon {Indian Rats) Wafps to the Spiders call'd Vhalangiay
Ducks to Sea-Gulls, the Harpe to the Buzzard-Hawk, the
Wolf to the Lion ? And befides, why fhould Rats have an
Averfion to a Tree where Ants are } Why is there fo irrecon-
cileable an Enmicy between a Beetle and an Eagle ? For the
Fable was framed from the Nature of that Animal. Hence
it -is, that near to Olyvthns^ in a certain Place, Beetles v/ill
not live if they arc brought into it. And thsn again^ b^-
( twecij
[i4«]
between Creatures that live in the Water ; what Reafon is there
why the Mullet and the Pike mutually hate one another, aj!
the Conger and Lamprey, that gnaw one another's Tails ? The
Lobfter has fuch an Hatred to the Polypus, that if it chance
to fee it near him, he dies with Fear. On the contrary, a
certain hidden Affection of Good-will has united other Crea-
tures, as Peacocks and Doves, Turtles and Parrots, Black-
birds and Thrufhes, Crows and Herns, who mutually aflift
one another againft the Fox ; the Harpe and Kite againft
the Triorchsy which is a kind of Hawk, and a common Ene-
my to 'em. The Mufculus, a littie Fifh fwimming before
the Whale, is a Guide to him i nor does it appear why he
is thus ferviceable to him. For, that the Crocodile opens his
Jaws for the little Wren, is not to be attributed to Friend-
fhipj when either Creature is led by its own Advantage. The
Crocodile loves to have his Teeth cleanfed, and therefore
embraces the Pleafure of having them pick'd j and the Wren
feeks her Food, feeding upon the Fragments of Fifh that
flick in the other's Teeth : And for the fame Reafon, a
Crow rides upon a Sow's Back There is fuch a ftubborn
Enmity between the Anthus and iEgythus, that it is affirmed
their Blood v/ill not mingle one with the other : Juft as it is
related of other Birds, that their Feathers will confume away
if they be mingled with thofe of the Eagle. A Hawk is a
deadly Enemy to the Dove-kind, but the little Bird the
Keftrel defends them ; for a Hawk is wonderfully afraid ei-
ther to fee or hear that Bird. Nor are the Pigeons ignorant
of this ; wherefoever the Keftrel has her Neft, they'll never
leave that Place, relying upon their Defenders. Who can
give a Reafon why a Keftrel fhould be fo friendly to Pigeons,
or why a Hawk fhould be fo afraid of a Keftrel ? And as a
very little Animal is fometimes a Safeguard to a great Beaft j
fo on the contrary, a very little one is often a Deftruftion to
a great one. There is a little Fifh in the form of a Scorpi-
on, and of the Si'ie of the Fifh Qiiaquiner ; he fometimes
fticks his Sting into the Fin of Tunnies, that often are
bigger than a t)olphin, and puts them to that Torture, that
they fometimes leap into Ships ; and the fame he does to the
Mullet. What fhould be the Reafon that a Lion, that is ter-
rible to all Animals, fliould be ftruck with Fear at hearing a
Cock crow "? Job. That I may not be altogether fhot-free
in this Entertainm.ent, I'll tell you what I fav/ with my own
Eyes, in the Houfe of that famous EngUfJjmaiz Sir Thomas
Moor : He kept in his Houfe a large Monkey, who, that he
micrht the fooner get v/ell of a Wound he had received, was
fuffer'd to go loofe. At the end of the Garden there v/ere
Rab-
[ i4i ]
Rabbets kept in Iiutches, and a Weefel ufed to watch them
very narrowly. The Monkey fitting aloof ofll^ quietly, as
tho' unconcern'd, obferv'd all his Motions, till he fiw the
Rabbets were in no danger from him. But perceiving the
Weefel had loofensd a Board in the back part of the Hutch,
and that now they were in danger to be attacked in the
Rear, and fo be made a Prey to their Enemy, the Ape runs,
jumps up on the Plank, and put it into its former place, with
as much Dexterity as any Man could have done. From,
whence 'tis plain, that Apes are great Lovers of this Ani-
mal. So the Coneys, not knowing their own Danger, that
ufed to kifs their Enemy through the Grate, were preferved
by the Monkey. Apes are mightily delighted with all young
Whelps, and love to hug them, and carry them about in
. their Arms. Bph. But that good-natur'd Monkey did really de-
fcrve to be made amends for his Kindnefs. Job. And he
was too. Eph. How ? Job. He found there a Piece ot Bread
that had, I fuppofe, been thrown there by the Children,
which he took up and eat. Ep. But it feems moll admira-
ble to me, that this kind of Sympathy and Antipathy, as
the Greek! call a natural AfFedion of Friendlliip and Enmity,
fhould be found even in things that have neither Lite nor
Senfe. I omit to mention the AHi-Tree, the very Shadow
of which a Serpent can't endure; fo that how far foever it
fpreads, if you make 'a Circle of Fire of the fame Bignefs,
the. Serpent will fooner go into the Fire than into the Shadow
of the Tree. For there are Examples innumerable of this
kind. Moths included in Parchment, are transformed into'
JButterFiies, by fome fecret Workmianihip of Nature, tho' they
feem as if they were dead, and ftir nor if you touch them,
unlefs a Spider creep near them j then only they appear to
be alive : They can't feel the Touch of a Man's Finger j but
they feel the Feet of a very fmall Animal crawling. Jch.
An Infed, before it is alive, can be fenfible of his capital
Enemy. That which is related concerning Perfons murdered
is very like this j to whom if other Perfons approach, there
is no Alteration j but if he that killed them comes nigh,
prefently Blood flows frefh out of the Wound j and, they fay,
that by this Token the Author of a Murder has been often
difcovered. Ep. What you have heard, as to that matter, is
no Fidtion. But, not to mention DeTnocritical Stories, do
we not find by Experience, that there is a mighty Difagree-
ment between an Oak and an Olive-Tree, that they will
both die if they be planted into the Ground of eath other?
And that an Oak is fo oppofite to a Walnut-Tree, that it will
4ic tho' it be fee at a good diftancc from it i and indeed a
Waluuc-
[ i43 ]
Walnut-Tree is hurtful to moft forts of Plants and Trees.
Again, tho' a Vine will twine its Sprigs round all other things
die, yet it fhuns a Colewort j and, as tho' it were fenfible of
it, turns it felf another way, as if fome Perfon gave the Vine
notice that his Enemy was near at hand. The Juice of
Coleworts is a thing contrary to Wine, and they are ufed to
be eaten againft Drunkennefs: But the Colewort has its
Enemy too j for, if it be fet near the Herb called Sow-bread,
or wild Marjoram, it will wither prefently. There is the like
Difpofition between Hemlock and Wine ; as Hemlock is Poi-»
fon to a Man, fo is Wine to Hemlock. What fecret Com-
merce is there between the Lilly and the Garlick, that
growing aear to one another, they (eem, as it were, mutually
to congratulate one another ? The Garlick is the ftronger,
but the Lilly-flower fmells the fweeter. Why fhould I fpeak
of the Marriage of Trees one with another ? the Females be-
ing barren unlefs the Male grows near them. Oil will only
mix with Chalk ,* and both of them have an Antipathy to
Water. Pitch attrads Oil, tho' they are both fat things. All
things but Gold fwim in Quickfilver, and that only draws it
to itfelf and embraces it. What Senfe of Nature is that
which feems to be in a Diamond, that will refift every thing
that is hard, but grow foft in a Goat's Blood? Nay, you
may fee an Antipathy even in Poifons themfelves. A Scor-
pion, if it chance to creep thro' Henbane, grows pale and be-
numbed. And the Herb Ceraftis is fo noxious to a Scorpion,
that he that handles the Seed of it, may take a Scorpioa
into his Hand. There are abundjaice of things of this kind>
but the Confideration of them more properly belongs to
Phyficians. What a mighty Power of either Sympathy or
Antipathy is there between the Steel and the Loadftone,
that a Matter heavy by Nature fhould run to, and cleave to
a Stone, as tho' it kiffed it ; and without touching it, fhould
fly backward ? And as to Water, which readily mingles
with all things, but moft of all with it felf i yet there are
fome Waters which, as tho' they hated one another, will not
mix,- as for inftance, the River flowing into the Lake
jFucinus, runs over it ; as Addua does to Larius, as Ticinus to
Verhanus-y Mincius to Benacus, Oliius to Sevinus, Rho"
danm to Lew anus: fome of which for many Miles only car-
ry their hofpitable Streams thro"em, and gooutjuftasmuch
and no more than they came in. The River Tygris flows
into the Lake Arethufay and is carried thro' it like a Paf-
fenger, that neither the Colour, the Fiih, nor the Na-
ture of the Water intermixes one with the other. And be-
iides, whereas other Rivers generally feem as it were in
haft«
I 544 ]
hafte to flow into the Sea ; yet fome Rivers, as tho' they had
an Averfion to it before they come at it, hide themfelves in
the Earth. There is fomething of a hke Nature to be ob-
ferved concerning the Winds j the South Wind is peftilential
to Mankind ; the North Wind, on the contrary, healthful ;
one coUeds the Clouds, the other fcatters them. And if we
may believe Afbrologers, there is a certain Sympathy and
Antipathy in the very Stars themfelves, fome are friendly to
Mankind, and others hurtful ; and fome are helpful to a
, Man againft the Influences of the noxious ones : So that
there is nothing in Nature, but by thefe Sympathies and An-
tipathies, brings a Man Injuries and Remedies. Job. And
perhaps you may find fomething above the Skies too ; for if
we believe the Magiy there are two Genius^ij a good and a
bad, that attend every Man. Ep. I think it's very well,
and enough for us that we are got fo far as Heaven, without
palling over the Limits of it. But let us return to Oxen
and Horfes. Job. In truth you make a very fine Tranfi-
tion. Ep. It is the more admirable to us, that in the fame
Species of Animals we find manifeft Footfteps of Sympathy
and Antipathy, no Caufe of it appearing : For fb your
Horfe-Courfers and Herdfmen endeavour to perfuade us, that
in the fame Pailures, and the fame Stable, one Horfe fhall
defire to have one Horfe nigh him, and v/on't endure ano-
ther. Indeed, I am of Opinion, that there is the like Af-
fection in all kind of living Creatures, befides the Favour of
Sex i but is in no Kind fo evident, as it is in Man. For
what Catullus exprcffcs of his Volujlus, concerning his Af-
fedion of Mind, is manifeft in a great many others :
I love tbce not-^ Volufius ; and if thou askefl vjhy ?
I love thee 720tj Volufius, w all I can reply.
But in adult Perfons, aPerfon may conjecture another Caufe :
In Children that are only led by the Senfe of Nature, what
can it be that makes a Child love one fo dearly, and have
fuch an Averfion to another } I my felf, when I was a Boy
not eight Years of Age, happen'd to fall into the Acquain-
tance of one of my own Age, or perhaps a Year older, of fo
vain a Humour, that upon every occafion he would invent,
without ftudy, moft monitrous Lyes. If he met a Woman,
he would fiiy to me. Do you fee that Woman .^ I anfwered
Yes, I fee her. Why, fays he-, I have lain with her ten times.
If we went over a narrow Bridge, nigh a Mill, when he per-
ceiv'd me ihock'd at the fight of the Water looking black
by reafon of the Depth, he'd fay, I full into this Place once,
what
[ i4i ]
what fay you to that ? And there I found the dead Body of a
Man, with a Purfe tied about him, and three Rings in it.
And thus he would do continually. And tho' it is common
for others to be delighted with fuch Romances as thefe, I
abhorr'd him more than a Viper, and knew no Reafon for itj
but only a certain hidden Inftind in Nature. Nor was this
only temporary ; but to this very Day I fo naturally hate
thofe vain lying Perfons, that at the very fight of them I
perceive my whole Conftitution to be fhock'd. Homer takes-
Notice of fomething of the like Nature in Achilles, when he
fays he hated Lies as much as the Gates of Hell But tho'
I was born with this natural Difpofition ; yet, contrary to it,
I feem to have been born to have to do with Liars and Im-
poftors thro' the whole Courfe of my Life. Job. But I don't
take in what this tends to. Ep. I'll tell you in a few words:
There are fome that fetch their Felicity from Magical Arts,
others from the Stars j I think there is no furer way of com-
ing at it, than if every one would abftain from that fort of
Life that he has a natural Averfion to, and betake him-
felf to that he has a natural Inclination to, always ex-
cluding thofe Things that are diihoneft; and that he would
withdraw himfelf from the Converfation of thofe, whofe Dif-
pofition he perceives does not agree with his own j and join
himfelf with fuch as he finds he has a natural Propenfity to.
Joh. If that were done, there would be Friendship between
fome few. Ep. Chriftian Charity extends itfelf to all ; but
Familiarity is to be contradted with but few : And he that
does no hurt to any Body, tho' he be bad, and would re-
joice if he would grow better, in my Opinion, loves all as
becomes a Chriftian to do.
Na TROBLt'^
PROBLEM J^,
The Argument.
Froblema treats of what is heavy and light, 'ithat the
Earth is the Center of heavy Bodies. Wloat Earth
is heaviejl^ and iMbat is light efi. tVhy Lead is hea^
vler than a Stone j Gold heavier than Lead. No-
thing is 7nore liquid than Honey and Oil. A lean
Man is heavier than a fat one 5 a Man thafs faji-
ing^ than one that has eat his Dinner : But Sin is
the heaviejl 'Thing of all.
CURIO and A L P H I U S.
€u. T Should be glad to learn fomething of you who are
■*• well skill'd ia many things, if it would not be trou-
blefome to you to inform me. Al. Well, Curio, go on
then, propofe what Queftions you have a Mind to, and be
in Fadi what you are in Name. Cu. Ifhan't take it amifs to
be call'd Curio, (o you don't put that Monofyllable fus [a
Sow] to it, that is hateful both to Ventn and Mhierva, and
makes it Curiofus. Ai. Speak out then. Cu. I have a
mighty Mind to know what we call Heavy and Light. Al. I
may as well ask you v/hat Kot and Cold is too : you fliould
rather put that Queftion to a Porter than to me \ or rather
to an Afs, who will tell you when the Burden is heavy by
hanging his Ears. Cu. I expedt a Solution, not fuch a one
as an Als can give, but fuch as becomes a Philofopher, an
.Alpheus himfeli". Al. Heavy is that which naturally tends
downv\^ards, and light that which mounts upwards. Cu. How
comes it about then that the Antipodes who are under us,
«^on'c fall into the Sky that is under them ? Al. They may
as well wonder why you don't fall into the Heaven that is
not under you but over you j for the Heaven is above all that
are comprehended within it : nor are the Antipodes under
you any more than you above them. Nay, you might rather
wonder why the Rocks, that the Earth of the Antipodes
fuftains, don't break and fall into Heaven. Cu. What then is
the natural Center of heavy Bodies ? and on the other hand:,
of \v^Jm Bodies ? Al. All heavy things are by a natural Mo-
' tion
L 547 ]
rion carried towards the Earthy and light things tov/ards Hea-
ven : I do not fpeak of a violent or animal Motion. Cu. Why>
is there then a Motion that is called an animal one ? Al. Ye?,
there is. Cu. What is it ? Al. It is that which is carried
according to the four Situations of the Body, forward, back-
ward, to the right and left, and in a Circle , and in the be-
ginning and end is rwifrer, and ilowefl: in the middle j for in
the beginning, Vigor adds Alacrity, and near the end the
Hope of coming to what the Animal aims at. Cu. I can't
tell Itow it is with other Animals ; but I have got a Maid-
fervant v.'ho is weary before fhe begins, and tired before fiie
ends. But return to v^^hat you begun. Al. I fay, heavy
things are carried downward by a natural Motion j and. by
how much the heavier any thing is, by fo much a iwifrer
Motion it is carried towards the Earth ; and by bow much th^"
lighter it is, by fo much the fwifter Motion it is carried to-
ward Heaven. It is quite otherwife in a violent Motion, which
being fwift at hrfr, grows flower by degrees; and contrary in
a natural Motion; as an Arrow fhot into the Air, and a Stone
fAJling from on high. Cu. I ufed to think that Men ran about
upon the Globe of 'the Earth, like little Ants on a great
Ball ; they ftick upon it every where, and none fall off. Al.
That is to be attributed to the Ruggednefs of the Globe,
and a certain Roughnefs in the Feet of the Ants, which,
indeed, is common to all Infects in a manner ; and laflly, to
to the J-ightnefs of their Bodies. If you don't believe me,
make a glafs Globe very fmooth and (leek ; you will fee thac
only thofe Ants don't fall that are at the upper part of ic.
Cu. If any God fhould bore thro' the Center of the Earth,
quite down to the Antipodes, in a perpendicular Line, and
as Cofmographers ufe to reprefent the Situation of the Globe-
of the Earth, and a Stone were let fall into it, whither would
it go } Al. To the Center of the Earth ; there all heavy
Bodies reil. Cu. What if \S\z' Antipodes fliould let fall a
Stone on their Side ? Al. Then one Stone would meet the
other about the Center, and flop there. Cu. But hark you,
if what you faid juft now be true, that a natural Motion by
its Progrefs grew more and more ftrong, if nothing hinder'd,
a Stone or Lead call: into the Hole, by reafon of rhe Vehe-
mence of its Motion it would pafs beyond the Center ; and
having got beyond the Center, the Motion would grow more
violent. Al. Lead would never come to the Center unle(s
it were melted ; but a Stone, if it did pafs the Center with
fo violent a Motion, would^ at firfl: more heavily, and re-
turn to the Center again, juft as a Stone thrown up into the
Air returns again to the Earth. Cu. But returning back again
N n a ^ by
C 548 3
by its natural Motion, and again recovering Force, it would
go beyond the Center, and fo the Stone would never reft.
Al. It would lie ftill at laft by running beyond, and then
running back again till it came to an Equilibrium. Cu. But
if there be no Vacuum in Nature, then that Hole muft be
full of Air. Al. Suppofe ic to be fo. Cu. Then a Body
that is by Nature heavy will hang in the Air. Al. Why
not ? As Steel does, being born up by the Loadftone ; what
Wonder is it, that one Stone hang in the very middle ot
the Air, when the whole Earth, loaden with fo many
Rocks, hangs after the fame manner ? Cu. But where is
the Center of the Earth ? Al. Where is the Center of a
Circle ? Cu. That is a Point that is indivifible j if the Cen-
ter of the Earth be fo fraall, whofoever bores thro' the
Center takes it away, and then heavy Bodies have no where
to tend to. Al. Now you talk idly enough. Cu. Pray
don't be angry j what I fay is for the fake of Information,
If any cnefliouid bore thro' the Globe of the Earth, and not
thro' the Center it felf j as fuppofe one hundred Furlongs
afide of it, where would a Stone fall then } Al. It would
not pafs ftrait thro' the whole. It would indeed goilrait, but
to the Center i and fo when it came to the middle, it would
reft in the Earth on the left Hand, if the Center were at
the left Hand. Cu. But what is it that makes a Body heavy
or light ? Al. That's a Queilion fit for God to anfwer, why
he made Fire the lighteft ot air things, and Air next to
that ; the Earth the heavieft, and Water next to that.
Cu. Why then do watry Clouds hang in a lofty Air ? Al.
Becaufe by the Attradion of the Sun they conceive a fiery
Nature, as Smoke being forc'd by a violent Motion out of
green Wood. Cu. Why then do they fometimes fall with
fuch a Weight, that they level Mountains intcJ a Plain > Al.
Concretion and Denfity add a Weight to them, and they
may be imagin'd lb to be borne up by the Air under them,,
as a thin Plate of Iron is borne up upon the Surface of the
Water. Cu. Do you think then, that whatfoever has moft of
a fiery Quality in it is lighteil:, and that which has moft of
an earthy Qiiality heavieft ? Al. You are right. Cu. But
Air is not all of a Lighrnefs, nor Earth all of a Heavinefs ;
and it is the fame as to Water. Al. Nor is that ftrange,
fince thofe , things you have mentioned are not pure Ele-
ments, but tempered of various Elements j fo that it is
■ probable, that Earth is the lighteft that has the moft Fire
. or Air mixt with it^ and that Water heavieft, that has Earth
which is heavieft mixt with it ^ as, I think. Sea- Water is,
and that whereof Sal; is made : And, iri like manner^ that
Air
[ i4p ]
Air that is nearell: to Water or Earth is the heaviefl-^ or^, at
leaft, it is certainly not fo light as that which is farther from
the Earth. Cu. Which has moft of an earthy Quality in
ir, a Stone or Lead ? Al. A Scone. Cu. And yet Lead is
heavier than a Stone in proportion. Al. (The Denfiry is the
Caufe.) That proceeds from its Solidity : For, a Stone is
more porous, and (o contains more Air in it than Lead does.
Hence it is, that we fee feme fort of dry Earth, which if you
caft into Water will fwim, and not link : So we fee whole
Fields floating ; being borne up by hollow "Roots of Reeds
and other marfliy Herbs, interwoven one with another. Cu.
Perhaps it is from this Caufe that a Pumice-Stone is fo light.
Al. Becaufe it is full of Pores, and very much burnt in the
Fire; they are thrown out of burning Places. Cu. Whence
is it that Cork is fo light ? Al. That has been anfwer'd al-
ready i thefpungy Hollownefs of it is theCaufc. Cn. Which
is heavieft. Lead or Gold ? Al. Gold, in my Opinion. Cu.
But yet Gold feems to have more of a fiery Nature than
Lead. Al What, becaufe, as Pha'ar fays, it (hines by
Night like Fire ? Cu. Yes. Al. But Gold has the greater
.Solidity. Cu. How is that found ? Al. Goldfmiths will tell
you, that neither Silver, Lead, nor Copper, nor any fuch
kind of Metal, can be hammer'd out fo thin as Gold can.
And, for the fame Reafon, Philofophers gather, that there is
nothing more liquid than Honey and Oil ; that if any one
fpread this, or daub any thing with it, it will fpread the
wideft, and be longeft in drying, of any thing. Cu. But
which is heavieft. Oil or Water ? Al. If you fpeak of l>in-
feed-Oil, I take Oil to be the heaviefb. Cu. Why then does
Oil fwim upon Wa'er ? Al. The Lighrnefs is not the Caufe,
but the fiery Nature of Oil, and a peculiar Nature in all fan
things that is contrary to Wa-er :, as it is in the Herb that is
called "A/Jtf-T^©-. Cu. Why then does not Iron fwim when ir
js red hot ? Al. Becaufe the Heat is not a natural one; and
therefore the fooner penetrates the Water, becaufe the In-
renfenefs of the Heat difpels the refift.ng Water : So an Iron
Wedge finks fooner to the Bottom than a thin Plate. Cu.
Which is the moft unbearable, hot Iron or cold ? ./il. Hot.
Cu. Then it is heavier. Al. It is, if it be better to carry
burning Straw in your Hand than a cold Flint. Cu. What is
the Caufe that one Wood is heavier or lighter than ano-
ther } Al. The Solidity or Hollownefs. Cu. But I knew
one of the King of E»'^/a«^'s Houfhold, who, when we were
at Table, fliew'd us fome Wood, which, he faid, was the
Wood of an Aloes-Tree, fo folid, that it feemed to be a'
Scone i and fo light, if you pois'd it in your Hand, that it
N n 3 fccm'd
C 550 ]
feem'd a Reed j being put into Wine^ (for lie was of Opi-
nion^ that fo it V70uld expel Poifonj it prefcndy funk to the
Bottom, as fwifdy as Lead u'ould. Al. Neither Solidity
nor Hollownefs is always the Caufe, but a peculiar occult
Agreement between diings j which is the Caufe that fome
things embrace or fliun other things of a cognate or different
Quality ^ as, a Loadftone attradts SteeL and a Vine avoids a
Colewort i and Flame will reach toward Naphtha, fer in a
lower place, altho' it be at fonrte Diftance; and yet Naphtha
is naturally heavy, and Flame light. Cu. All forts of Money
iwim in Quickfilver, and Gold only finks, and is inclofed in it ;
yet Qiiickfilver is very liquid. Al. I can give no Solution to
that, but a peculiar cognate Quality; and Quickfilver was
made for the Refinement of Gold. Cu. Why does the River
Arethufa run under the Skanian Sea, and not rather fwim
upon it i when you fay that Sea-Water is heavier than River-
Water ? Al. A natural Difagreement is the Caufe, but it is
a fecret one. Cu. Why do Swans fwim, when Men going
into the fame Water fink ? Al. The Caufe is not only the
hollownefs and lightnefs of their Feathers, but a'lfo a drinefs
that the Water fliuns : And hence it comes to pafs, that if
you put Water or Wine into a Cloth or Linnen that is very
dry, it contradls it felf into a globular Form i but put it into
a wet one, it fprcads it felf prefently. And in like manner,
if you pour any liquid Thing into a dry Cup, or whofe Brims
are greafed with Fat, and pour a little more than the Cup
will hold, the Liquor prefently gathers it felf into a round
before it will run over the Brim. Cu. Why can't Ships carry
fo much in Rivers as in the Sea ? Al. Becaufe River-
water is of a thinner Confiflence f, and for the fame Reafoa
Birds poife themfelves with more Eafe in a thick Air, than
in a thin one. Cu. Why does not the Fifh calPd Tlota fink ?
Al. becaufe its Skin being dried in the Sun, is made lighter,
and refiRrs Moifture. Cu. Why does Iron drawn out into a
large Plate fwim, but being contraded in a narrow Comp^afs
fink .? Al. It is Drinefs is the Caufe in parr, and partly be-
caufe there gets in an Air between the Plate and the Water.
Cu. Which is the heavieft. Wine or Water ? Al. I believe
W ine won't give place to Water. Cu. How comes it about
then, that they that buy Wine of the Vintners fometimes find
Water in the bottom of the Cask ? Al. Becaufe there is
in Wine a certain fat Subftance lik^ Oil, that refills the Wa-
lter ; the Reafon is plain, by how much richer the Wine is,
fo much the more difficukly does it mingle with Water ; and
being fet on Fire, it burns the fiercer, Cu. What is the Rea-
fon that no living Creature will fink in the Lake Ajphahus ?
[ 3Si ]
"^L I can t give a Solution to all the Miracles in Nature ; Na-
ture has fome-^?'<:^«^, that (he will have us admire but not un-
derftand. Cu. Why is a lean Man heavier than a fat Man,
fappofing them both of an equal Size ? ^l. Becaufe Bones are
more folid than Flefli, and therefore the more u'eighty. Cu.
Why is the fame Man heavier vi^hen he is fafting, than after he
has eat his Dinner, and fo added a Weight to his Body. ^l.
Becaufe by Meat and Drink the Spirits are increafcd, and
they add a Lightnefs to the Body : And hence it is that a mer-
ry Man is heavier than a forrowful one^ and a dead Man than
a living one. C». But how is it that the fame Man can make
himfelf heavier or lighter when he pleafes ? Al. By hold-
ing in his Breath he makes himfelf lighter, and by breath-
ing it out, heavier : So a Bladder v.'hen blown, and clofa
tied, fwims ; but when it is burft, finks. But when will
Curh have done asking Queftions ? Cu. I'lj leave oft if you
will tell me but a few things more ? Is the Heaven heavy or
light ? Al. I can't tell whether it be light or no, but I am
fure it can't be heavy, it being of the Nature of Fire. Cu.
What then does the old Proverb mean. What if the Sky
fliould fall ? Al. Becaufe the ignorant Antients, following
Homer, belie v'd the Heaven to be made of Iron j but Ho-
tter caird it Iron from the Similitude of Colour, not of
Weight ; as we call that alliy that is of the Colour of Afhes.
Cu. Is there any Colour in the Sky ? Al. There is not really
any Colour in it ; but it appears fo to us, becaufe of the
Air and Water that is betwixt us and it j as the- Sun fom.e-
times appears to us to be red, foraetimes yellow, fometimes
white, when of it felf it admits of no fuch Mutations :
In hke manner the Colours of the Rainbow are not in the
Sky, but in the moift Air. Cu. But to make an end ; you
confefs there is nothing higher than the Heaven, v/hich way
foever it covers the Orb of the Earth. Al. I do confefs (o.
Cu. And nothing deeper than the Center of the Eardi.
Al. No. Cu. Of all things in the World, what is the hea-
vieft } Al. Gold, in my Opinion. Cu. I differ very much
from you in this Point. Al. Why, do you know of any thing
that is heavier than Gold ? Cu. Yes, I do, and by many
Degrees too. Al. Then now do you take your Turn, and
teach me ; for I profefs I don't know any thing that is. Cu.
Muft not that needs be the heaviefl thing in the World, that
forced down the fiery Spirits from the very Vorrex of Hea-
ven to the bottom of Hell ? and that (you know) is plac'di
in the Center of the Earth. Al. I confefs it ^ but what is
that ? C«. Sin, which plunges the Souls of Men, that
N n 4 Firiii
Virgil calls Sparks of pure JEther, to the fame place. Al.
If you have a mind to pafs to that fort of Philofophy, I con-
fefs both Gold and Lead to be as light as Feathers com-
pared to it. Cu. How then can they that are laden with
this fort of Luggage mount up to Heaven ? Al. In truth I
can't tell. Cu. They that prepare themfelves for running or
leaping, do not only lay afide all heavy things, but make
themfelves light by holding in their Breath i when as to the
Race and Leap that we take to Heaven, we don't endeavour
to throw afide that which is heavier than Stone or Lead.
Al. k'j, but we fhould do it if we had but one Grain of
found Judgment.
rh
[ 553 3
r^^ EPICUREAN.
The Argument.
'T^e Epicurean, a divme Colloquy^ reafons learnedly and
poujly concerning the true Good^ a -pure Confcience^
temporary and eternal Life. 'That there is Felicity
where is true Pleafure^ and the leafi Sorrow. 'That
Chriftians truly pious are true Epicureans, in that
they have a clear Confcience^ and Peace with God 5
and that, altho^ they may he. thought by the World to
mourn^ yet they do really live pleafantly. 'That the
chief efi Pie afar es proceed from the Mind. He that
has God, what can he deftre more ? Concerning a
Pri&ft who entertained his Guefts with imaginary
Dainties. Luft, Whoring, and Drunkemiefs have
more Pain than Pleafure in them. Tantalus'; /(?o///&
Deftre. Sin is the Tantalean Stone. The great Mer-
cy of God towards repenting Sinners.
HEDONIUS and SPUDiEUS.
He. "IX/ HAT is my Spudaus hunting after, he is fo in-
•^ ' cent upon his Book, muttering I know not what
to himfelf ? Sp. Hedonius, I was indeed hunting, but that
was all> for I can catch nothing. He. What Boole is that in
your Bofom ? Sp. Tullfs Dialogues of the Ends of good
things. He. But is it not better to enquire after the Begin-
ning of them, than the End ? Sp. Mark Tully calls a per-
fect Good the End of Good, fuch as whofoever obtains '
can delire nothing more. He. It is indeed a very eloquent and
learned Piece ; but have you done any thing to the Purpofe, as
to the Attainment of the Knowledge of the Truth ? ^p. In-
deed I feem to have gotten this Good by iCj that I am more
in Uncertainty, as to the Ends of Good, than I was before.
Sp. It is commonly the Cafe of Farmers to be at Uncertainty,
as to the Ends ot Lands. He. I admire very much that
there is fo great a Difagreement in the Opinions of fo ma-
ny great Men, concerning fo great a Matter. S^. No won-
der
[ 554 ]
der at all, for Error is very fertile, but Truth fimple : And
they being ignorant of the Head and Fountain of the whole
Afl&ir, they all make abfurd and doating Guefles. But
which Opinion do you think comes nearefc to the Truth?
He. When I meet with M. Tully oppofing them, I like
none of them. Again, when 1 find him defending them,
I have not a word to fay againft ir. But to me the Stokks
feem to be the leaft out of the way, and next to them the
Teripateticks, He. I like no Sect fo well as the Epicureans.
Sp. There is no Sedl amongft them all that is fo much con-
demn'd by a univerfal Confent. He. Let us fet Prejudice
afide, and let Epicurus be what he vi^ill, let us conGder the
thing in it felf. He places the Happineis of Man in Plea-
fure, and judges that Life to be moft blefled, that has mod
Pleafure, and leaft Pain. Sp. He does fo. He. What can
be more divine than this Sentence? Sp. Every Body cries
out, this is the Saying of a Brute, rather than of "a Man.
He. I know they do j but they are miftaken in the Names
of Things. If we will fpeak the Truth, none are greater
Epicureans than thofe Chriftians that live a pious Life. Sp.
They come nearer to it than the Cynicks ; for they make
their Bodies lean with failing, bewail their ov/n Weak-
neffesj either are poor, or elfe make themfelves fo by their
Liberality to the Poor ; are oppreffed by the Powerful, and
derided by the Populace. And if Pleafure be that which
makes happy, I think this kind of Life is as diftant from
Pleafure^ as can well be. He. Will you admit of Tlautus
for an Author ? Sp. Yes, if he fays that which is right.
He. Then I'll prefent you with one Sentence of a naughty
Servant, that has more Wifdom in it, than all the Paradoxes
of the Stoicks. Sp. Let me hear it. He. Nihil efi wife-
rius quav2 animus fhi mali confcius : Nothing can be more
wretched than a guilty Confcience. Sp. I approve the Say-
ing j but what do you infer from it ? He. If nothing be
more wretched than a guilty Confcience, it follows of confe-
quence, that nothing is more happy than a clear Confcience.'
Sp. A very good Inference ; but in what part of the World
will you find a Confcience, that is clear from all that is evil ? .
He. I call that evil, that breaks the Friendfhip between
God and Man. Sp. But I believe there are very few that
are clear of Evil of this kind. He. And I take thofe that
are cleanfed to be pure ^ fuch as by the Lather of Tears,
and Soap of Repentance, and Fire of Charity have waflied
away their Pollutions. The Sins of fuch Perfons are not only
not hurtful to them, but oftentimes turn to a greater Good.
Sp. I know what Soap and Suds is i but I never heard that
Poilu-
L S.5S ]
Pollutions were purged away by Fire. He. But if you go to
the Refiner's Shop, you'll Tee Gold purged by Fire 5, and
there is a certain fort of Flax, which being put into the
Fire, is not burnt, but fhines brighter, and is as clear as
Water ; and therefore is called living Flax. Sp. In truth,
\thoa bringeft us a Paradox, that is more paradoxical than
all the Paradoxes of the Stoicks. Don'c they live a plealanc
Life, of whom Chrift has laid, Blejpd ars they that imurn ?
He, They feem to mourn to Men of the VVoild, but in
reality they live delicioufiy, and, as the old Saying is, hs-
ing anointsd mtth Honey, live pweetly j fo that, compared to
thein, Sardanapalus, Phiioxenut, ^pkius, or the moil
noted Voluptuary, lived but a miferable Life. Sp. What
you fay is nevi^, but it is fcarce credible. He. Do but once
make a Trial, and you'll fay over and over, that what I lay
is true. I don'c queftion but I can make you fenfible that ic
is not incredible. - Sp. Go about it then. He. I v^'ill, if you'll
grant me Ibmething by way of Preliminary. Sp. I will,
if what you require be juft. He. If you grant 'em me, I'll
return them with Intereft. I fuppofe you will allow that
there is a Difference betv/ee'n the Soul and Body } Sp. There
is fo, and as much as between Heaven and Earth, immortal
and mortal. He. And again, that falfe Goods are not to be
taken for true Goods ? Sp. No more than Shadows are to be
• taken for the Bodies themfelves, or the Deluficns of Magician.s
or the Fancies of Dreams, are to be accounted for Truth.
He. So far you have anfvver'd me well ; I fuppofe you'il
likewife grant me this, that there can be no real Pleafure,
but in a (bund Mind. Sp. Why not ? a Per Ton can't take
Pleafure in the Sun, if his Eyes are fore ; or relilh Wine ia
a Fever. He. Nor can I think Epicurus himfelf would em-
brace a Pleafure that has m.ore Pain in it, and of longer Con-
tinuance than the Pleafure it fdf. Sp. In my Opinion, nei-
ther he, nor any Body elfe that has any Senfe, would. He.
I'll prefurne you'll grant me this, that God himfelf is the
chiefeft Good, than which nothing is more glorious, more
lovely, and more pleafant. Sp. No Bocfy would deny that,
but one that is more brucifli than a Cyclops : But what then .^
He. Well then, now you have granted me, that no Body
lives more pleafantly than they that live pioufly ; and no
Body more miferably, and afflidedly, than they that live
wickedly. Sp. Then I granted you more than I was aware
of. He. But as Tlato fiys, that which has been fairly granted^
ought not to be deny'd. Sp. Weil, go on. He. A little
Puppy that is kept for Pleafure, is fed daintily, liesfoftly, plays
and wantons continually j does not Inc live pleafantly then ?
Sp.
[ ss6 ]
Sp. Yes. He. Would you wiOi for fuch a Life then ? Sp.
No, by no means, uniefs I fliould wifh to be a Dog. He.
Then you confefs that true Pleafures proceed from the Mind,
as from a Fountain. Sp. Ic is plain they do. He. So great
is the Force of the Mind, that it often takes away the Senfe
of outward Pain, and fometiraes makes what of it felf is bit-
ter, to be fweet. Sp. We fee that daily in thofe who are in
Love, who take a Pleafure in watching and waiting all a cold
Winter's Night at their Miftreftes Door. He. Well then,
confider with your felf, if human Love have fuch a Power,
which Bulls and Dogs have as well as we, how much
more prevalent will that heavenly Love be, chat proceeds
from the Spirit of Chrift, the Power of which is ib great,
that it can render Death amiable, than which there is no-
thing in the World more terrible ? 5^ 1 "can't tell what
others feel within themfelves j but I think that they want a
great many Pleafures that adhere to true Piety. He. What
Pleafures do they go without? Sp. They do not get Riches,
attain Honours, junket, dance, fing, perfume themfelves,
laugh and play. He. You fhould not have mentioned Riches
and Honours in this Cafe j for they don't make a Life plea-
fant, but rather full of Cares and Anxiety, Let us confider
■ the other things, which are what they hunt after, that have
a Defire to live a pleafant Life. Do you not daily fee Drun-
kards, Fools and Madmen laughing and dancing ? Sp. I do
lb. He. Do you think that they live pleafantly ? Sp. I
would wifli that Pleafure to thofe I hate. He. Why fo ? Sp.
Becaufe their Mind is out of order. He. Then had you
rather faft and ftudy, than live after that manner ? Sp,
Nay, I had rather dig. He. There is no Difference between
a rich Man and a drunken Man, faving that Sleep will cure
a drunken Man, but Dodlors can't cure a covetous Man.
A natural Fool differs from a Brute only in the Form of his
Body i but they are lefs miferable whom Nature has made
Brutes, than they that have made themfelves fo by their
beaftly Lufts. Sp. I confefs chat. He. Do you think that
they are fober ,or in their right Mind, who for the fake
of Delufions, and Shadows of Pleafure, negled the true
Pleafures of the Mind, and bring upon themfelves real Tor-
ments ? Sp. They do not feem to be fo. He. Such Perfons
are not drunk with Wine, but with Love, wiih Anger, with
Avarice, with Ambition, and other filthy Lufts j which is
a Drunkennefs more dangerous than to be drunk with Wine.
Cyrus, in the Comedy, after he had flept away bis Debauch,
fpoke fober things ; but a Mind drunk will-: vicious Luft,
how hardly does chat come to it felf ? How many Years
does
i SS7 1
does Love, Anger, Hatred, Luft, Luxury and Ambition
torment the Mind ? How many do we fee that never wake
our of the Sleep of Drunkennefs, Ambition, Avarice, Luft,
and Luxury, and repent of them, even from their Youth to
a decrepic old Age ? Sp. I know a great many fuch as thofe*
He. You have granted likewife, that Perfons fhould not take
falfe Pleafures for true ones. Sp. I have fo, and I fliall not
eat my Words. He. That is no true Pleafure that does not
fpring from true Caufes. Sp. I own that. He. Then they are
no true Pleafures that Mankind generally purfue right or wrong.
Sp. I don't think they are. He. If they were true Pleafures,
they would only happen to good Men, and render them
happy whofe Share they fall* to. But as to Pleafure, can
that be thought to be true that proceeds not from true Good,
but from the falfe Shadows of Good } Sp. By no means.
He. But Pleafure is that which makes us live fweedy. Sp.
It does fo. He. Well then, none lives truly pleafantly, but
he that lives pioufly, i. e. that enjoys true Good : It is only
Piety that gains the Favour of God, the Fountain of the
chiefeft Good, that makes a Man happy. Sp. I am almoft
convinced. He. Now do but mind how vaftly wide they
are from Pleafure, who, as is commonly accounted, follow
nothing but Pleafures. Firft of all, their Minds are polluted
and vitiated with the Leaven of Lufts, that if any thing
that is pleafant happens, it prefently grows bitter : for when
a Fountain's muddy, the Stream will not run clear. Again,
that Pleafure is no true Pleafure, that is received with a
diforder'd Mind ^ for there is nothing more pleafant to an
angry Man than Revenge : but that Pleafure is turn'd into
Pain, as foon as the Difeafe has forfaken the Mind. Sp. I
don't deny that. He. But laftly, thefe Pleafures proceed
from falfe Goods; whence it follows, that they are but
Cheats ; for what would you fay if you faw a Man under a
Delufion by magical Arts, to drink, dance, clap his Plands,
when there was nothing really there that he thought he
faw ? Sp. I fhould fay he was both rfiad and miferable.
He. I was once prefent at fuch a Spedlacle j there was a
certain Prieffc skilfd in Magick. Sp. He did not learn that
from the holy Scriptures. He. From the moft unholy ones.
Some Ladies of the Court paid a Vifit to this Prieft, in-
viting themfelves to dine with him, and upbraiding him with
Covetoufnefs and Niggardlineis : At laft he confented, and
gave them an Invitation. They came without a Breakfaft,
that they might eat the heartier Dinner : The Table
feenfd to be plentifully furnifhed, and no Dainties wanting ;
and they fed heartily, and returning their Hoft thanks for
his
[558]
his Enrertainment;, went home. But immediately they per-
ceiv'd themfelves very hungry, and admired that they fliould
be To, when they had juft come from eating Co plentifully.
At length the Matter catne out, and they were foundly
laugh'd at. St). And they deferv'd it too : they had better
have ftaid at home and (cd upon ordinary Fare, than have
gone abroad ro be feailed v/ith imaginary Dainties. He. But
in my Opinion, it is far more ridiculous for Men in common
to gralp at the mere empty Shadows of Good, infiead of
the true and fubftantial Goods j and to take a Pleafure in
thofe Peceits that do not only end in a Jeft, but in everlafl-
ing Sorrows. Sp. The more I confider it, the more I am
convinc'd I have fpoken to the Purpofe. He. Well, let it
be allow'd for the prefent, that things are call'd Pleafures that
really are not fo : But would you call that Metheglin fweer,
that has more Aloes than Honey in it .? ' Sp. No, I fhould
not, if there were a third parx as much. He. Or would you
wifli to have the Itch, that you might have the Pleafure of
fcratching > Sp. No, if I were in my Senfes. He. Well
then, do but reckon with your felf how much Bitternefs is
mix'd with thofe Pleafures falfeiy fo call'd, which a dilhoneft
Love, an unlawful Luft, Gluttony and Drunkennefs pro-
duce» At the fame time I take no Notice of the Torment ot
Conscience, Enmity with God himfeif, and the Expedlation
of eternal Torment, which are the chiefefl things of all : For
pray do but confider, what is there in thefe Pleafures, that
does not bring with it a whole Troop of external Evils ?
Sf}. What are they ? He. Not to mention Covetoufiiefs,
A.mbition, Wrath, Pride, Envy, which of themfelves aretrou-
blefome enough, let us only compare thofe things that are in
a fpecial manner accounted Pleafures. When hard Drinking
throws a Man into a Fever, the Head-ach, the Gripes, Diz-
zmefsi a bad Name, Decay of Memory, Vomiting, Lofsof
Appetite, and the Palfy j would Epicurus himfeif think this
was a Pleafure worth feeking after ? Sp. He would fay it
were to be fnunn'd rather. He. When young Men by
Whoring, as it commonly falls out, get the Pox, which by
v/ay of Extenuation they call the Common-Garden Gout, by
which they are fo often brought to Death's Door in their Life-
time, and carry about a dead Carcafs ; do they not epicu-
ri^e glorioufly ?■ Sp. Yes, if coming often to the Powdering-
tub be doing fo. He. But now fuppofe the Pain and Plca-
fi-ire to be equal, would you be willing to bear the Pain of the
Tocth-ach, as long as the Pleafure of Whoring or a drunken
Bout laded ? Sp. In truth I had rather go without both i^
for lo buy Pleafure with Pain, is Penance without Gain. la
this-
this Cafe, in my Opinion, an utter AvahyzoiA, which Cicero
calls an Indolency, is much better. He. But befides that,
the Titillation of unlawful Pleafure, as it is much lefs thaa
the Pain it brings, fo it is of fliorter Continuance : But when
a Man has once got the Pox, he's plagued with it all his
Life-time, and forced to fufFer a fort of Death a great many
times over before his Time comes to die. Sp. Epcurm
himfelf would not own fuch Perfons for his Difciples. He.
Poverty is commonly the Attendant of Luxury, and that is
a miferable and heavy Burden to bear j and a Palfy, weak-
nefs of the Nerves, fore Eyes, and the Pox, the Confequents
of immoderate Venery : and this is not all neither : Is it not
a notable Way of Merchandizing, to purchafe a Pleafure, nei-
ther real folid, nor of long Continuance, with fo many Evils,
greater and longer-lafting ? Sp. If there were nothing of
Pain in the Mattdr, I fhould think him a foohHi Trader who
fhould barter Jewels for bits ofGlafs. He. And will you
not fay the fame of them that lofe the real Enjoyments of
the Mind, for the counterfeit Pleafures of the Body ? Sp.
Indeed I think fo. He. But let us com.e clofer to the Mat-
ter • Suppofe that neither a Fever nor Poverty fhould always
accompany Luxury ; nor a Pox nor Paif)', V/horing • yet a
guilty Confcience, thk you allow to be by far more wretch-
ed, is the infeparable Companion of unlawful Pleafure. 5^.
Nay, fometimes it goes before it, and galls the Mind in the-
very Fruition of it. But there are fome, perhaps, you'll fay,
that have no feeling in their Confcience. He. Such arc the
more miferable ; (or who would not rather feel his Pam,
than have his Body fo ftupify'd, as to have no Senfe of feel-
ing ? But as fome Perfons in their Youth, by the Exorbi-
tancy of their Lufts, are as it were drunk, and habituated to
them, and like a Callous grown infenfible of their Calamity ;
yet when they come to old Age, befides the innumerable
Evils they have treafuredNup in the Time of their paft Life,
Death, the inevitable Fate of Mankind, flares 'em in the
Face with a terrible ^fped j and then the Confcience is fo
much the more tormenting, by how much the more ftupi-
fy'd it has been all their Life before. Then the Soul is a-
waken'd, VThether it will or no ; old Age, which of it fclf is
a melancholy Thing, as being obnoxious to many Incotn-
modities of Nature ; how much more miferable and wretch-
ed is it, if a guilty Confcience adds to its Infelicity ? Enter-
tainments, Club-Feafts, Balls, Amours, Conforts of Mufick,
and thofe things that are delightful to them when young,
will be burdenfome to them when old. Old Age has no-
thing to fupport it felf with, but the Remembrance of a
3 Life
Life innocently pafs'd, and the Hope of a better to come :
Thefe are tiie two Crutches upon which old Age is born up ;
therefore if you take thefe away, and in the ftead of them
put a double Burden upon their Shoulders, the Remembrance
of a Life ill fpent, and Defpair of Happinefs to come, pray
what living Creature can be imagin'd more afflidled and
more miferable ? Sp. Indeed I cannot fee what, unlefs it
be the old Age of a Horfe. He. Then indeed is the Stable-
door Jfjut ivhen the Steed is fiokn j and the old Saying is a
true one. The end of Mirth is Heavinefs, and there is vo
Delight equal to a glad Heart. And again, A merry Heart
doth good like a Medici7te, hut a brokeit Spirit drieth the
Bones. And again. All the Days of the AfliSied are evih
i. e. affli6ted and wretched. A contented Mind is a conti-
nual Feaft. Sp. Then they adt wifely that get Wealth be-
times, and provide a Viaticum for old Age againft it comes.
He. The holy Scripture has not fo low a Senfe as to meafure
Man's Happinefs by outward Enjoyments : He is poor in-
deed, that is divefted of all Virtue, and owes both Soul and
Body to the Devil, Sp. And he indeed is a very feverc
Creditor. He. He is truly rich who has God for his Friend ^
for what ihould he fear that has fuch a Protedor ? Should he
be afraid of Men ? The united Power of all the Men in the
World, is lefs to God, than that of a Gnat againft an Indian
Elephant. Should he fear Death ? To godly Men that is
the Way to eternal Happinefs. Should he fear Hell ? A
godly Man fays v/ith Confidence to God, Tho^ I 'walk in the
Region of the Shadow of Death t I luill fear no Evil, for thou
art with me. Why fhould he be afraid of Devils, that car-
ries Him in his Breaft at whom the Devils tremble ? The
Scripture, which cannot be contradicted, in many Places
fays. That the Breaft of a godly Man is the Temple where-
in God dwells. Sp. Indeed I don't fee how thefe things
can be refuted, tho' they feem contrary to common Senfe.
He. Howfo? Sp. For according to your Way of Reafoning,
any Francifcan lives a Life more pleafant than he that a-
bounds with Honours, and in a word,'*all kinds of Delight.
He. Nay, you may add the Sceprre of a King, and the
Pope's triple Crown too, and of a three-fold Crown make a
hundred-fold one ; and except only a good Confcience, and
Til be bold to f^y, that this bare-footed Francifcan girt a-
bout with a Rope full of Knots, in a mean and ragged Coat,
worn to a Skeleton with Fafting, Watching, and Labours,
and that is not worth a Penny in the World, if he has but
a good Confcience, lives more delicioufly a thoufand times
than Sardanapalus hirafelf. Sp. What's the Reafon then
that
[ i^« ]
that we commonly fee poor Men look more melancholy than'
rich Men? He. Becaufe a great many are doubly poor. In-
deed Difeafes, Want, Watching, Labour, and Nakednefs/
do weaken the Habit of the Body. But the Alacrity of the
Mind does not exerc it felf in thefe Cafes alone, but alfo in
Death it felf : For the Mind, altho' it is ty'd to a morral
Body, yet it being of a more powerful Nature, does after a
fort transform the Body into it felf, efpecially if the Efficacy
of the Spirit be added to the Power of its Nature. Hence
it comes to pafs that we frequently fee Men that are truly
pious, die with greater Chearfulnefs than others live. Sp. I
have often admired at that rny felf. He. It is not at all to
be wonder'd at, that there fhould be an invincible Joy,
where God the Fountain of all Joy is. What new thino;
is it, that the Mind of a pious Man fhould always be
chearful in a mortal Body, when the fame Man, if he
fliould be plunged down to the loweft part of Hell, would
fufFer nothing as to his Felicity ? Wherefoever is a good
Confcience, there is God j wherefoever God is, there is Pa-
radife ; where Heaven is, there is Happinefs ; where Hap-
pinefs is, there is true Joy and fincere Alacrity. Sp. But
for all that, they would live a more pleafant Life, if they
were freed from fome IncommoditieS, and enjoy'd fome Plea-
fures which they either fet light by, or can't attain to. He.
What Incommodities are thofe you fpeak of ? Do you mean
thofe things that are Concomitants of Humanity; as Hunger,
Thirft, Diftempers, Wearinefs, old Age, Death, Thunder,
Earthquakes, Inundations, and Wars ? Sp. Thefe among
the reft. He. But now we are talking of immortal ones.
And yet alfo, in thefe Calamities the Condition of the God-
ly is much more tolerable than that of thofe who hunt af-
ter bodily Pleafures right or wrong. Sp. How ib ? He. Be-
caufe their Minds are inur'd to Temperance and Bearance,
and therefore undergo thofe things which are inevitable more
moderately than other Perfons. And laftly, in that they un-
derftand that all thofe things are fent by God, either for the
Purgation of their Faults, or the Exercife of their Virtue :
and therefore they take them not only patiently, but alfo
willingly, as obedient Children from the Hand of a kind Fa-
ther; and are thankful either for his favourable Corredion,
or for the great Advantage got by them. Sp. But there are
a great many Perfons who bring bodily Afl^Jfrionj upon
themfelves. He. But more make ufe of phyhcal Medicines,
either to preferve the Health of the Body, or to recover it :
but to bring Troubles upoti themfelves, viz. Want, Sick-
nefs, Perfccution, or Reproach, unlefs Chriftian Charity
: ■ O o cbiigs
oblige to it, is not Piety, but Folly. But as often as they are
inflid:ed for the fake of Chrift or Righteoufnefs, who is
he that dares to call them miferable, when the Lord himfelf
calls them hlejfed, and bids them rejoice on account of
them ? Sp. But for all that, they carry fomething of Tor-
ment in them. He. They do fo, but 'tis fuch a one, that
the Fear of Hell on the one fide, and the Hope of Heaven
on the other, eafily overcomes. But prithee tell me if you
did firmly believe that you fliould never feel any Sicknefs or
bodily Pain all your Life long, if you would but once fuf-
fer your Skin to be prick'd with a Pin, would you not wil-
lingly and gladly fuffer that little Pain } Sp. If I were but
fure I (hould never feel the Tooth-ach all my Life, I would
fuiFer my Skin to be prick'd deeper, and both my Ears to be
bor'd thro' with an Awl. He. But whatfoever Afflidion hap-
pens in this Life, is more light and fliort in comparifon to
eternal Torments, than the momentary Prick of a Needle.
to the Life of Man, the longeft that ever any Man liv'd ;
for there is no Comparifon between that which is finite, and
that which is infinite. Sp. You fay very well. He. Now
fuppofe, if you could be perfuaded that you fhould live
without Trouble all your Life long, if you did but divide
the Flame with your Hand (which Pythagoras forbad to be
done,) would you not readily do it ? Sp. Yes, I would do
it an hundred times, if he that promis'd me would be as
good as his Word. He. God cannot be worfe than his
Word i but that Senfe of the Flame is of longer Conti-
nuance, if compar'd to the Life of Man, than all his Life
is, compar'd to the Happinefs of Heaven, tho' the Life of
that Man fhould be three times as long as that of Ne(lor.
For that putting the Hand into the Flame is fome part of
the Life of Man, let it be never fo fmall a one j but the
whole Life of a Man is no part of Eternity.. Sp. I have
nothing to fay againft it. He. Befides, they that haften for-
wards with all their Heart and a certain Hope, when the
Way is fo fhort j do you believe they are tormented with
the Troubles of this Life ? Sp. I don't think they are, if
they have a certain Belief and firm Hope of attaining to it.
He. I come now to thofe Delights you took Notice of: They
abftain from Balls, Banquets and Plays ', they fo defpife them,
that they enjoy thofe that are much pleafanter. They don't
take lefs Pleafure, but they take it after another manner.
The Eye has not feen, nor the Ear heard, nor has it en-
ter" A into the Heart of Man, to conceive luhat Comforts God
has prepared for thofe that love him. Bleffed Vavl was ac-
quainted with the Songs, Dances, Exultations, and Ban-
iquets of pious Minds in this Life. Sp. But there are fbme
lawful Pleafures which they abridge themfelves of. He.
The immoderate Ufe of fuch Pleafures* as are in themfelves
lawful, is unlawful j if you except that, they who feem to
live this auftere Life, exceed others in Enjoyment. What
can be a more noble Spedacle than the Contemplation of
this World ? Men that are in God's Favour, take far more
Pleafure in that Contemplation, than other Men ; for while,
they, out of CurioGty, contemplate this wonderful Fabrick,
they are perplex'd in their Minds, becaufe they cannot attain
to the Knowledge of the Caufes of many things. And in fomc
Cafes, like Momus% fome murmur againft the Workman,
often calling Nature, which is indeed a Mother, a Step-
mother -y which Refledion, tho' in word it be levell'd againft
Nature, yet rebounds on him that is the Author of Nature,
if indeed there is any fuch thing as Nature. Bat a godly
Man, with religious and pure Eyes, beholds the Works of
God, his Father, with great Pleafure of Mind, admiring
every thing, finding fault with nothing 5 but giving Thanks
for all things, when he confiders that all thefe things were
made for Man : And fo in every thing adores the Omnipo-
tence, Wifdom and Goodnefs of the Creator, the Footfteps
of which he perceives in the things created. Imagine for
once that there were really fuch a Palace as Apukius feign'd
for Ffyche, or fomething more magnificent and fine, if it can
be : And fuppofe two Spedators, one a Stranger, who only
came to fee it, the other a Servant, or a Son of him that
built it J which of them will take the greateft Pleafure in
the Sight ? the Stranger who has nothing to do with the
Houfe, or the Son who beholds the Genius, Wealth, and
Magnificence of a dear Father, in that Building, with great
Pleafure, efpecially when he reflects, that all this Fabrick was
made for his own fake ? Sp. Your Queftion needs no An-
fwerj but the greateft Part, that are not religious, know not
that Heaven, and what is contain'd therein, was made for the
fake of Man. He. They all know it, but they do not all
confider it ^ and if it does come into their Mind, yet he
takes the moft Pleafure that loves the Workman beft, as he
looks moft chearfuUy upon Heaven, that breathes after eter-
nal Life. Sp. There feems to be a great deal of Truth in
what you fay. He. Now as to Banquets, the Sweetnefs of
them does not confift fo much in the having a dainty Palate,
or in the Seafonings of the Cook, as the good State of the
Health of the Body, and the Goodnefs of the Appetite.
Therefore don't think that any LucuUus fups more pleafanrly
upon his Partridges, Pheafants, Turtle- Doves, Hares, Gilt-
O o 2 heads.
heads. Sturgeons, or Lampreys, than a godly Man does
upon brown Bread, a Sallad, or Pulfe, and Water, or Small-
Beer, or a little Wine mixed with a great deal of Water,
becaafe he receives them as fent from a kind Father. Prayer-
feafons them all, and the preceding Thankfgiving fandifies,
and being accompanied with the reading of the Word of
God, refrefhes the Mind more than Meat does the Body.
And having return'd Thanks, at laft he rifes from the Table,
not fluffed, but recreated ; not loaded, but refrefhed in
Mind, as well as Body. Do you think the Contriver of
any of thofe vulgar Delicacies can fare more delicioufly ?
5^. But the higheft Pleafure is in Venery, if we give Credit
to Arifiotk. He. Well, in this Particular too, the Advantage
is on the pious Man's Side, as well as in Feafting ^ confider
it thus. By how much the more ardent his Love is toward
his Wife, by fo much the more pleafurable are his conju-
gal Embraces. And none love their Wives better, than
thofe that love them as Chrifi loved his Church ; for they
that love them for the fake of Concupifcence, do not love
them in Reality. But befides, the feldomer is the Enjoy-
ment, the pleafanter it is : The profane Poet was not igno-
rant of this, who faid, Voluptatejn commendat rarior ufus.
Although, indeed, that is the leaft part of the Pleafure that
confifts in Coition, the far greater part of the Pleafure is
in their cohabiting and dieting together, which cannot be
more pleafant between any Perfons, than between thofe who
fincerely love one another with a Chriftian Love. In other
Perfons commonly Pleafure growing old, fo does Love too ;
but Chriftian Love grows the more flouriihing, by how
much carnal Love decreafes. Well, have I not convinced
you yet,' that no Body lives more pleafantly than thofe
that live pioufly ? Sp. I wifh you had fo much convinced
all Perfons as you have me. Hi?. Well then, if they are
Epkureavs that live pleafantly, none are more truly Epicu-
reans, than thofe that live holily and religioufly. And if we
are taken with Names, no body more deferves the Name
of an Epicurean, than that adorable Prince of Chriftian Phi-
lofophers ; for I'^riit^f©- in Greek fignifies as much as an
Helper. ' Therefore when the Law of Nature was almoft
eraied by Vice j and the Law of Mofes rather incited than
cured Lufts, when the Tyrant Satan ruled without Controul
in the World, he alone afforded prefent Help to perifhing
Mankind. So that they are mightily miftaken that foolifhly
reprefent Chrift, as by Nature, to be a rigid melancholicfe
Perfon, and that he invited us to an unpleafant Life j when
he alone (how'd the Way to the moft comfortable Life in
the
[ i^i ]
the World, and fulleft of Pleafure, and Co vaftly diftanc
from that Tantalean Pleafure. Sp. What is the Meaning ot
that Riddle ? He. You'll laugh at the Romance ; but this
Jeft will lead us on to fomething ferious. Sp. Well then, I
expecSt ,to hear a ferious Jeft. He. Thofe v/ho formerly n^ade
it their Bufinefs to v;rap up Preceprs of Philofophy in tiie
Folds of Fables, tell us, that one Tantalus was once ad-
mitted to the Table of the Deides, which they teil you is
wonderfully ftored with Delicacies : When Jupiter was about
to difmifs his Guefts, he thought it agreeable to his Gene-
rofity, to lee none of them go away without fome Boon •
therefore he bid Tantalus ask what he pleated, and it fhould
be granted : And Taiitalus being fo foolifh as to meafure
Man's Happinefs by the Pleafures of Gkutony, wili'd that
he might all his Life-time lie at a Table fo plentifully fur-
niflied. Jupiter confented, and granted him what he de-
fir'd : Tantalus fits a at Table furniilied with all forts of
Dainties \ Ne^ar is fet before him j neither Rofes nor Odours
are wanting, fuch as may delight the Nofes of the Gods
themfelves ; Ganymede ftands by him to be his Cup-bearer,
or fome Body like him : The JMufes ftand about him fmg-
ing fweetly j Siknus dances before him with ridiculous Gefturesj
and likewife there are good Store of Jefters j and in ihort,
there is whatfoever may delight the Senfes of a Man : but in
the midft of all thefe he fits melancholy, fighing and anxious,
neicher being moved by their Merriment, nor touching the
Provifion before him. Sp. What is rhe Reafon of that ? He.
Becaufe a great Stone hangs over his Head, as he fits at Sup-
per, ready to fall upon him every Moment. Sp, I'd get away
from fuch a Tabic. He, But what he willied for is made
necelTary to him. Nor is Jupiter fo placable as our God.is,
who refcinds the hurtful Wiihes of Mortals, if ihzy repent of
them. But the fame Scone that hinders Tantalus from feed-
ing, frightens him from going away j for he is alrsid il he
oflper to ftir Idft the Stone fl^.ouid fall upon him, and cruHa
him to pieces. Sp. A ridiculous Story ! He. But now hear
what you won't laugh at : The common People feek for a
pleafant Life from external Things, when nothing Vv'ill pro-
duce that, but a good Con fcience j for a heavier Scone hangs
over the Heads of thofe that have a guilty Confcience, than
hangs over the Head of Tantalus himfelt j nay, it does not
only hang over their Heads, but vexes «nd preffes their Minds ;
nor is their Mind tormented with a vain Fear, but expeds
every Hour, when they lliaU be caft into Hell. Pray, what
can there be fo pleafant in earthly Things, that can poffibly
chear a Mind that is prell down with fuch a Stone "> Sp.
O o 3 Nay,
Nay, nothing in the world but Madnefs or Incredulity. Bel
If Youth did but confider this, who being bewitched with
Pieafures like the Cup of Circe, embrace fweetned Poifons,
inftcad of things truly pleafant, how carefully would they be-
ware left by Incogitancy they fhould do that which would
perplex their Mind all their Life-time ? What would they not
do that they might provide this Viaticum againft old Age,
which is drawing on j a good Confcience, and an untainted
Reputation ? What can be more miferable than that old Age,
which, when it looks back, fees with great Horror what beau-
tiful Things it has neglefted, and what foul Things it has em-
braced : And again, when it looks forward, fees the laft Day
hanging over its Head, and immediately upOn this the Tor-
tnenrs of Hell ? Sp. I think they are the happieft Men, who
have preferved the iSrft part of their Age undefiled, and im-
proving in the Study or Piety, have arrived to the Goal of
old Age. He. And the next place is due to thofe who have
early repented of their juvenile Follies. 5/>. But what Advice
will you give to that wretched old Man ? He. While there
is Life there is Hope : I v/ould bid him fly to the Arms of
Mercy. Sp. But by how much the longer a Man has con-
tinued in an evilCourfc of Life, by fo much a greateir Mais
of Iniquities is heaped up, that exceeds even the Sands on
the Sea-fl^ore. He. But then the Mercies of God exceed
them 5 tho' Man cannot number the Sand, yet the Num-
ber of them is finite ; but the Mercy of God knows neither
Bound nor End. Sp. But there is but little Time to one that
is at the point of Death. He. The lefs Time he has, the more
ardently he ought to call upon God. That Time is long
enough with God, that can reach from Earth to Heaven j
and a fhort Prayer can penetrate Heaven, if it be but fent with
a ftrong Force of Spirit, Mary Magdden is recorded to have
fpent her whole Life in Repentance ; but the Thief got a
Grant of Paradife from our Saviour, even at the point of
Death. If he (hall but cry with his whole Heart, My God
have Mercy on me, according to the Multitude of thy Mercies ;
the Lord will remove that Tantalean Stone, and make him
hear that Sound of Joy and Gladnefs j the Boj:es broken hf
Contrition fliali rejoice for the Pardon of Sins.
ERAS-
ERASMUS wrote this Colloquy when he
was a very young Scholar at Daventer ; and
being Jo far inferior to the 'Performance of his
riper Tears ^ he would not permit it to he printed
with the re fly nor would he fear ce own it to he
his : But it fhows the Tajie he had of the purer
Latinityy inveighing fatyric ally againji the har-
harous Latin^ that was in thofe Days commonly
allowed and approved, particularly in a great
School^ or College at Zwoll, a I'own twelve
Miles from Daventer, where injicad of pure
'Latin Author s^ the Scholars were put to learn.
Books fluff' dwith Inelegancies andJBarhartfms,
^he ConJli3 hetween Thalia and Barbarifm.
THALIA and her Companions^ CALLIOPE and
MELPOMENE5 BM^'&AKlSNiandher
Companions.
Tha. /^Good God ! what fort of Monfter is that which
^^ I fee rifing out of the Ground yonder ? I be-
feech you look upon it. Cal. O admirable ! what a vaft
Body it has, the top of its Head reaches almoft up to the
Stars. Tha. In truth, I can't tell what it is ^ but it's coming
nearer to me. • A new fort of a Compofition, do you fee it ?
It has a Face like a Virgin ; from the Breaft downwards it
is like an Afs. Cal. It is fo, as I hope to be fav'd. But,
Madam, do you obferve what monftrous Horns grow out of
the Forehead of it ? Tha. They are huge ones indeed.
But do you take Notice what Ears there are by the Horns ?
Cal. I do mind them, they are like Afles Ears, and they
are whitifli, and full of Motion ; and I perceive it approaches
nearer and nearer, but I can't tell what is in the Mind of it
to do. Alas 1 I am in Pain, left it has fome Mifchief in its.
O 0 4 Head.
H?ad. Tha. May God our Father prevent it. Mel. If my
Memory don'c fail me, I have fome Knowledge of this Mon-
fter. Tha. Prithee tell us what it is. Mel. There is no
Danger in it. Tha. But I am cruelly afraid it is an Enemy
to us j is it, or not ? Mel. It is j this is our only and moft
cruel Adverfary. Tha. God confound it. Nel. It never
ceafes envying and affauking us : They fay it has its Refi-
dence in the Weftern Climates, there it brings all things un-
der its Yoke, is worfhippp'd, lov'd and honour'd. What Need
is there of a great many Words ? In fliort, it expeds to be
appeas'd wirh fuppliant Prefents like a Goddefs. Tha. If I
rniilake not, I have heard ^o. But what's the Name of the
City where (lie reigns ,? Mel. Why, 'tis Znvoll, I think.
Tha. Very right, that's it. Mel. Her Name is Barbarifm.
Tha. It is (lie, in truth, I know her very well ; but fee, fhe
is coming hither a great Pace ; let us halt till llie comes up.
Bar. Companions, is this Thalia her felf that 1 fee hard
by ? Why I thought fhe had been dead long enough ago : It
is certainly fiie, I efpy her Laurel j fne is come to Life again,
and has the Impudence predimptuoufly to come into my Pre-
f.nice, without any Fear of me : I'll advance up to her, and
make her know who I am. A Mifchief take you, you im-
pudent Jade. Tha. You falute me very roughly : Pray, for-
footh, take that tc your felf that you, wifh to me. Bar. Why,
Thalia, are not you, that have been routed fo long ago,
afham'd to come into my Prefence } Tha. Do you ask me
fuch a ^efiion ? you are not worthy to lay your Eyes upon
me ; and it is beneath me to caft my Eyes upon fuch a nafty
Beaft as you are. Bar. Hey day ! What, a poor beggarly
Wretch to dare to affront me i What, don't you know me
better than that comes to ? Take care you don't provoke me.
Tha. A Fart for your Menaces, I don'c mind 'em, nor no
body clfe : Should I be afraid of you, you nafty Wretch ?
Bar. Take care whom you throvv your Refledtions upon.
7lja. You may thank your Companions there for your Gran-
d?ur. Bar. Wiiat, thefe ? Tha. Tcs, them, and none but
them. Bar. What am I indebted to them for ? Pray tell
me. 7'ha. Ir is their Opinion of you, or rather their Error,
that has rais'd you to the Pitch of a Goddefs, and not your
Hjhle Biah. Bar. But (if Time would perm>it) I could au-
thentically derive my Pedigree from the Divinity it fcif.
Tha. A rare Pedigree, I'll warrant you ! Pray let's have ir,
there's time enough j and no doubt but the Sun will ftand
fViil while you are telling fuch ftrange Stories. Bar. You
make a mighty bragging of your being yupiter's Daughter,
and triumph in A^oiloi bemg your Condador. My Father
<z ■ was
15^9 1
was one who would not knock under to him, either for Va-
lour, Archery, or Mufick. When at any time he had a mind
to divert himfelf with Tinging*, like Orpheus, he made the
very Woods dance after his Mufick ; and as for Racing,
he would outftrip even the Eaft Wind it felf. Tba. I have
heard thefe Stories a thoufand titwes over. Bar. What have
* you to fay to that ? Do you take me in ? Tha. When you
firft ftarted up in the World, you pretended Chiron was half
Man. Bar. It's like your Manners to break in upon me,
before IVe laid what I was about ; han't you Patience to
hold your Tongue, till I have faid what I had to fay ? Tha.
I have, if you'll keep to the Truth. But if I do hold my
Tongue, I fhan't mind you much. Bar. What, do you
make a Liar of me too } Tha. No ; but if you take it
upon your felf, it really belongs to you. Bar. Do you fpeak
the Truth, when you fay I was Chiron's Daughter ? Tha.
Why, here are WitneCTes of it. Bar. Where are they,
pray ? Tha. Why this great Tail that hangs down to your
Heels is one, and thefe Briftles on your Back, and thefe
whitifh Ears on your Head, all thefe plainly fliew you are
one of Chiro?z's Offipring ; he begat you upon an Afs ; a
very fine Pedigree to brag of ! I fee you fet your felf to be
as abufive as you can. You make a mighty to do about
Shape ', but let us come to Virtue, argue about that, about
Fame, and Glory, and Adorers : What fignifies the Body- ?
Tha. No great Matter indeed, faving that a deformed Mind
ufually accompanies a deformed Body. But come on, we'll
come to thofe Things. Bar. Take this in the firft place j
there are but few that adore you, the whole World adores
me ; you being hardly known by any body, lie incognito ;
I have extended my Name all over the World, I am well
known and famous every where. Tha. I own that. Bar,
You would not own it, if you had any thing to fay againfl:
it. Tha. Yes, I have fomething to fay againft it : You knew
Cacus ? Bar. Who does not know Cacus ? Tha. That
Cacut whom Virgil fpeaks of. Bar. I knew him. Tha. I
believe you did, for he was a famous Fellow ; and as he was
famous, juft fo are you. And then again, whereas you take
it to your Praife, that the World follows you, I interpret it
rather to your Diflionour j for every thing that is fcarce, is
valuable. There is nothing valuable that is common to the
Vulgar. Altho' my Admirers are but few, yet they are Per-
fonyof Figure and Gravity. But pray what great Repu-
tation is it to you, that you are admir'd by the ignorant
Mobility? Bar. Silly Wench ! the Thing is quite different,
for I don't leave thofe Perfons unlearned, that I find fo j but
♦
[ S70 ]
I rather improve them and inftrudl them, and make theni
Pevfons of Learning and Gravity. Tha. Ha, ha, ha, loaded
wiih Books, but not with Science. Bar. You're a poor
Scrub, and I am as well able to make my Followers
learned, as you are yours. Tha. Yes, like your felf j for be-
ing barbarous your felf, you make Barbarians of them too :
What can you do elfe ? Bar. Now I find by Experience,
the Chara&er is true that I heard of you long ago, that you are
a prating, impertinent Baggage. Leave oflF, Simpleton, you
know nothing at all ; this I am fure of, that if you knew
but half I know, you would not have the Impudence to talk
at this rate. In my Academy at Zwoll, what Glory, Difcipline
and Improvement is there ! If I fliould but begin to enu-
merate, you'd burft with Envy. Tha. Yes, forfooth ^ and
fo I believe you'd make the very Poft and Pillars burft with
your braggadochia talking : But however, begin and burft me
if you can. Bar. 'Ti3 too long. Tha. Well, make fliort
on't then, you know how. Bar. Well then, I'll fpeak in
brief as to what I was faying before : No Body is able to
number the great Confluence of Students that flock from all
Pares of the fpacious World to that famous School. Tha.
Phoo ; what, does that great Afs at Ziuoll (I mean the great ,
Bell of the School) bray fo loud, as to call them together in
Crowds ? Bar, Silly ton, forbear Railing, and hear what's
fiid to you. They are there inftruded, and render'd learned
in \l Trice. Tha. Wonderfully learned, indeed ! Bar. In the
beftOIolTes, Vocabularies:, Arguments, and innumerable other
notable Matters. . Tha. That's righdy fpoken. Bar. What
do you grin at ? I improve them to that degree, that there is
nothing they are ignorant of. Tha. Ay, of nothing that's
Novelty. Bar. As they grow in Stature* fo they do in Ex-
perience j and being become perfed Mafters, they are made
Inftrudlors of others : Then I difcharge them, that they may
live happily, and die bleffedly. Tha. Ha, ha, ha ; I envy
them fo much, I can hardly forbear burfting my Sides with
laughing. Bar. Fool, what do you lau^h at ? Do you
think what I fay deferves to be laugh'd at ? Tha. I can
give you a better Account of the Matter. Bar. What, you ?
Tha. Yes, I ; and if you pleafe you fliall hear it too. Bar.
Well, begin then. Tha. As to the Number of your Fol-
lowers, I grant it ; and if they have learnt any thing right in
Schools before, they muft be forc'd to unlearn it again :
And then, as to thofe Difpenfations (of which you have
reckon'd up a great many) they are not fo much inftrudted,
as confounded by them, till at laft they know nothing at all :
You
I 571 ]
You improve them till they don't know fo much as them-
felves. Their Horns grow on their Foreheads, and then
they feem very cunning Fellows, and are more fit to rule,
than be ruled. And at laft you fend them away in a Con-
dition to live merrily, and die blefledly. Bar. I find you
can't keep your Tongue from railing ; but have a care you
don't raife my Indignation. If you don't forbear throwing
your Squibs at me, I'll throw them at you again j I have
lomething to hit you in the Teeth of. Tha. And nothing
but Slanders. Bar. You poor Wretch you, I fay I fend
them back fuch (whether you know it, or no) that they
won't ftrike Sail to your Poets for Verfification fthat is the
chief Thing you have to boaft of) Tha. For Number, I
confefs y but we don't fo much regard the Number of Verfes,
as the Goodnefs of them. But you, on the contrary, only
take notice of the Number, and not the Goodnefs j you
count the Pages, but pafs by the Barbarifms that are in them.
So they do but hang together, that's the only Thing that you
regard, it's no matter for the Goodnefs of them. Bar. You
fenfelefs Creature, you rnake a mighty to do about Goodnefs ;
I don't think any thing is fo empty of Goodnefs as your
Poems j for what are they but gilded Lies, full of old Wo-
mens Tales ? Tha. You commend them fufficiently. Bar.
I commend (uch ridiculous Stuff.? Tha. You commend, and
don't know you do it. Bar. What, fuch lying ones ; I ra-
ther ridicule them than praife them. Tha. You praife them
againfl your Will. Bar. How fo > Tha. While thou en-
vioufly raileft at them ; for the way to difpleafe thofe that
are bad, is to commend them. Bar. Great and elaborate
Lies that any Body may envy. Tha. You fhew your Igno-
rance as plainly as the Sun at Noon-day'. Unhappy Wretch,
you are not fenfible how much you commend the Induflry
of thofe Poets by your foolifh Talking, who think it unfic
to caft Rofes before Swine in Mire and Dirt ; and therefore
they wrap up and hide the Truth in ambiguous Words and
enigmatical ExpreCfions ; that tho' all may read them, yet all
may not underftand them. They read them, and go av/ay
as ignorant as if they never had feen them. A Man of
Learning reads them, and fearches into the Meaning of the
Words (for they are tranfparent) and finds that under them
is couch'd a vafl Treafure of wholefome Truth, that the other
pafs'd over unobferv'd. Bar. Very fine, very fine ; a comi-
cal piece of Roguery, to mingle Truth and Falfliood toge-
ther ! to corrupt Truth with feigned Fables ! Is this that you
give fuch great Encomiums of ? Tha. Shall I give you an
Anflver
Anfwer to this in a few Words ? But firfl anfwer me this ,
pray, which do you look upon to be the beft, to pick up
Jewels out of Dung, or to admire them fet in Gold. Bar.
The laft is the beft. Tba. You mean to your felf, and fo ic
is. As for you, if there is any Truth in a Poem, you ob-
fcure it fo with trifling Words, that it rather makes it look
dim, than gives it a Lufcre. On the contrary we (not as
you reproachfully fayj don't corrupt the Truth by an Ele-
gancy of Words ; but we put a Luftre upon it, as when a Jewel
is fet in Gold. We don't take the Luftre from it, but add to
ic ; we don't make ic more dark, but fhine the brighter. And
laft of all, this we do, we labour that that Truth, which is
of its own Nature profitable, be made more grateful by In-
duftry. As for your Partisans, they being ignorant of thefe
things, reproach, carp at, and are envious at them. If they
were wife, how much more would they cry me up ■ ■
I have ftopt your Mouth now ; I'll break this Silence. Bar.
I might have faid that more juftly of your Partisans. Tha.
I have broken it. Bar. Thofe that don't underftand our
Poetry, don't know how to do any thing, but to laugh and
fcofF. Tba. They are fuch, that if a Man underftands them,
he will be never the wifer ; and if he does not, he will know
never the lefs. Bar. There is no need, of a great many
Words, the thing proves it felf Tha. The thing prove it
felf ! I fliould be glad to fee that. Bar. I mean thofe Per-
fons, which the Knowledge of things has render'd famous.
T^a. Is there any one fuch Perfon ? Bar. Yes, without
Number. Tha. That's well faid, as if no Body could num-
ber them ; for no Body can number that which is but one,
and not that neither : However, you may. begin, tho' you
fhould not be able to go thro' with it. Bar. In the firft,
and chief place, Florifia, that took his Name from Flowers.
Tha. But not fweet-fmelling ones. Bar. Then here's Tapias.
Tha. A very learned Man, indeed ! you ought to have named
him firft. Bar. Then here's Huguitio. Tha. A very famous
Man ! Bar. And Michael Modifia. Tha. An excellent one !
Bar. Then here's Javies Glofariuf. Tha. A wonderful Man !
Bar. And him that I efteem above them all, ^ohn de Gar-
landtat who excels in fuch an Elegancy of Words, and fuch
a Majefty of Style, that there are but very fev/ that can un-
derftand him. Tha. Nay, no Body at all, unlcfs they are
Barbarians as well as he \ for how can any Body eafily un-
derftand him, who did not well underftand himfelf } Bar.
There's no end in talking with you ; you out-do me in
Words, but I don\' chink Vidlory confifts in them. If
you
[ 573 1
you have a mind to k, let us each of us try what we can
do. Do you make Verfes with me. Come, don'c ftand
Ihivering and fliaking, nor fhilly flially j I am ready for^
you ; then it will appear whether of us gets the better.'
Tha. I like it very well. Come on, let us try : But,
Miftrefs Poetefs, do you begin firft. Bar. Thefe are Verfes
that I have often repeated in the Prefence of very learned
Men, and not without the great Admiration of all of them.
Tha. I believe fo ; now begin.
Bar. Ztuollenfcs tales, quod eorum Theutonkalei
Nomen per partes uhicunque probantur <d^ artes,
"Et (juaft per mundum totum funt not a rotunduntt
Zivollejtfique folo prof err e latimca foh
Dijcunt clericuU nimium bene verba novelli.
Thefe Verfes are a Demonffcration how elegant a Poet I am.'
Tba. Ha, ha, ha j they contain as many Barbarifms, as
Words : This to be fure is certainly your Father's Speech,
I mean Chiroi^s ; a Poem excellently compos'd j I won't de-
fer giving it its juft Due.
Tale fonant infulfa mhi tua carmina, vateSt
G^uale fonat fylvis vox irrudentis onagri j
yiuale boat tervus fecora inter agrejiia taurus,
^ale tefiiculis gallus genitalihus orbtis
Concinit baud vocem humanam, fed dico ferinam.
Ham celebres laudate viri, <^ doSiijJime florum
AuEior ades j gratos in ferta nitentia flores
CoUigito, merit^que coronam neBito Diva :
UrtiCiB viridi graveolentem junge cicutam j
Talia nam tali debentur pramia vati.
Jlnnue, Barbaries, tuque banc fine cornua circum
Inter candidulas laurum tibi ne£iier aures.
Bar. This m.akes me ready to fpew ; I can't bear to hear
fuQh filly Stuff Do I loiter away my Time here, and
don't go to Zvjoll to fee what my Friends are doing there ?
Tba. Make hafte, and let a Blockhead vifii the Blockheads ;
your coming to them will be very acceptable : I fee I
ipend my Breath upon you in vain : You will never be
a Changeling. I very aptly apply'd to you that Verfe of
yirgih
Noft
ti74l 1
No» ilium nofiri pojfunt mutare lahoref.
We do but endeavour to wa(h a Black-moor white?
Mel. At the beginning of this Contention, as foon as ever
we efpy'd this Monfter, we all grew fick at the Stomach.
Tha. I believe fo, truly. Cal. Miftrefs, let us leave this
beaftly Creature, and betake our felves to the airy top of
Tarnajfus Hill, and the Heliconian Fountain. Tha. Let us
do fo. ,
Dbs
[ 375 1
Des Erasmus of Rotterdam
TO THE
READ E
Concerning the
Profitablenefs of Colloquies.
ALICIOUS Detradion, attended with tfie
Furies, does at this Day fo rage throughout the
whole World, that it is unfafe to publifh any
Book, except it be defended by a Guard. Al-
tho', what indeed can be fecure enough from the
Sting of a falfe Accufer, who like the Adder at the Voice of
the Charmer, flops his Ear from hearing any one clearing
himfelf, though it be ever fo juftly ? The firft part of this
Work, which is mine and not mine, was publifli'd by rea-
fon of the Rafhnefs of a certain Man : Which when I per-
ceiv'd it was receiv'd by the Students with great Applaufe, I
made ufe of the AfFedion of the common People, for the
Furtherance of Studies. And fo Phyficians themfelves don'c
always adminifter the mofl: wholfome things to their Pa-
tients, but permit them to take fome things, becaufe they
have a very ftrong Defire for them. So in like manner,
I thought meet to allure tender Youth with Inticements
of this fort, who are more eafily attradted with thole things
that are pleafaut, than thofe that are fcrious, or the
moft exad. Therefore I have again correfled that which
was publilhed, and befides have added fuch things as may
conduce to the forming of good Manners, as it were infinaa-
ting into the Minds of young Perfons, whom Ariflotk ac-
counted not to be fit Auditors of Moral Philofophy^. wis, flich
a$
as is deliver'd in ferious Precepts. And if any one fliall cry
outj that it is an unfeemly thing for an old Man to fport him-
felf thus childiflily ^ I care not how childifhly it be, fo it be
but profitably. And if the antient Teachers of Children are
commended, who allur'd them with Wafers, that they might
be willing to learn their firft Rudiments j I think it ought not
to be charg'd as a Fault upon me, that by the like Regard I
allure Youths either to the Elegancy of the Latm Tongue,
or to Piety. And befides, it is a good part of Prudence
to know the foolifh AflFedions of the Common People,
and their abfurd Opinions. I judge it to be much better to
inftrud thofe out of this litrie Book, than i?y Experience, the
Mijirefs of Fools. The Rules of Grammar are crabbed
Things to many Perfons. Arifiotys Moral Philofophy is not
fit for Children. Scotut's Divinity is lefs fit, nor is it indeed
of any great ufe to Men, to procure them Underllanding.
And it is a Matter of great Moment early to diffeminate a
Tafte of the beft Things into the tender Minds of Children ;
and I cannot tell that any thing is learn'd with better Succefs
than what is learn'd by playing : And this is in truth a very
harmlefs fort of Fraud, to trick a Perfon into his own Profit.
Phyficians are commended for cheating their Patients after
this manner ; and yet if I had done nothing elfe in this Mat-
ter but trifled, they might feem to have borne with me, be-
caufe, befides the Elegancy of the Language, I have inferted
fome things that may prepare the Mind for Religion. They
accufe me falfely, and as tho' the Principles of the Chriflian
Religion were here ferioufly fet down, they examine every
Syllable exadtly. How unjuftly they do this, will appear more
evidently when I fhall have fhewn the great Profitablenefs
of fome Colloquies : To omit fo many Sentences, intermix'd
with Jefts ; fo many pleafant Stories, 'and the natures of fo
many things worthy to be taken notice of j
In the Colloquy concerning vipting of holy Tlaces, the fu-
perftitious and immoderate Affedion of fome is reftrain'd,
who think it to be the chiefeft Piety to have vifited Jeru-
faUm \ and thither do old Bifliops run over fo great Tradts
of Land and Sea, leaving their Charge, which they fhould
rather have taken care of. Thither alfo do Princes run, lea-
ving their Families and their Dominions, Thither do Huf-
bands run, leaving their Wives and Children at home,
whofe Manners and Chaftity it were neceffary to have been
guarded by them. Thither do young Men and Women run,
vvith the hazard of their Manners and Integrity. And fome
go the fecond time, ay, do nothing elfe all their Life-long ;
and in the mean time the Pretence of Religion is made the
Excuie
Escufe for their Superftinon, Inconftancy, Folly, and Rafh-
nefs j and he that deferrs his Family contrary to the Dodtrine
of Sc. Paul, bears away the Bell for Sandtimony, and thinks
hin:ifelf compleady religious Paul, i Th^. v. 8. boldly fays.
But if any provide not for his 01x177, and efpecially thofe of his
own Houfe j he hath denied the Faith, and is ivorfe than a7Z
Infidel. And yet Paul in rhis Place ieems to (peak of Widows
that negleft their Children and Grand-children, and that un-
der Pretence of Religion, while rhry wive then-.felves up to
the Service of the Church. What would he fay of Huf-
bands, who leave their tender Children and young Wives,
and that in a pcor Condition, to take a Journey to yerufa-
lem ? I will produce but one* Example out of many, and not'
fo long ago but that the Grand-children areftill living, whom
the great Damage they fuftain'd does not fuflfer to forget what
was done.
A certain great Man took a Refolution to pay a Vilit to
yerufalem before he died, with a religious Intent indeed,
but not well advis'd. Having fcr in order the AfFairs of his
Poffeffions, he committed the Care and Cuftody of his
Lady, who v^'as big with Child, of his Towns and Caftles*
to an Archbifliop, as to a Father. As foon as the News
arriv'd that the Man was dead in his Pilgrimage, the Arch-
bifhop, inftead of ading the part of a Father, play'd the
Robber, feiz'd all the dead Man's Poffeffions, and befieg'd
a ftrong well-defended Caftle, into which the Lady great
with Child, had fled ^ and having taken it by Storm, left
any one fhould furvive who might revenge the heinous Fadt,
the Lady great with Child, together with her Infant, was
run thro' and died. Would it not have been a pious Deed,
to have diiTaaded this Man from fb dangerous and unne-
ceflary a Journey ? How many Examples of this kind there
are to be found, I leave others to judge. In the mean time,
to fay nothing of the Charges, which tho' I grant they be not
entirely lofl:, yet there is no wife Man but will confefe, that
they might have been laid out to far better purpofe : But
then as to the Religion of making fuch Vifits, St. Jerome
commends Hilarion in that, tho' he was a Native of Pa-
lefiine, and dwelt in Palejiine, yet he never went to fee Je^
rufalem, tho' it was fo near, but once, leR: he might feem to
defpife holy Places. If H//m(7« was defervedly commended,
becaufe being fo near, he forbore going to vifit Jerufalem,
left he fhould feem to fhut up God in a narrow Compafs,
and went thither but once, and that by reafon of the near-
nefs of the Place, left he might give OflFence to any ; what
fliall we fay of thofe who go to Jerufakm thro' fo many
P p Dangers-j
Dangers, and at fo great Expence, out of England and Scot'
land, and efpecially leaving their neareft and deareft Rela-
tions at home, of whom, according to the Dodrine of the
Apoftle, they ought to have a continual care ? St. Jerome
proclaims aloud, that it is no great matter to have been at
Jerufalem, hit it is a great thing to have liv'd well. And
yet it is probable that in Jerome's Time there were more
evident Foorfteps of antient Monuments to be feen, than
now. As to the Difpute concerning Vows, I leave that to
others. This Colloquy only treats, that none fhould rafhly
take fuch Vows upon them : That this is true, rhefe Words
of mine plainly flie\r j Effecially I having a Wife at home,
«« yet in the flower of her Age, Children, and a Family luhieh
depended upon me, and luere maintained by my daily La-
bour ; and other V/ords that follow. Therefore I will fay
nothing of Vows that are made, only this, that if I were
Pope, I would not unwillingly difcharge thofe that had bound
themfelves from them. In undertaking them, as I grant
that it is poffible for fome one to go to Jerufalem with an
Advantage to Piety ^ fo I fhould make no Scruple from many
Circumftances of Things, to advife, that they would lay out
the Expences, Time, and Pains, to other Purpofes, which
would more immediately conduce to true Piery. I judge
thefe to be pious Things, and for that Reafon confidering
either the Inconftancy, or Ignorance, or Superftition of many,
I have thought it proper to give Youth Warning of that
Thing J and I do not fee whom this Admonition ought to
offend, unlefs perhaps fuch Perfons to whom Gain is pre-
ferable to Godlinefs. Nor do I there condemn the Pope's
, Indulgences or Pardons; but that molt vainTrifler, who put
all hi^ Hope in Mens Pardons, without the leafl Thought of
amending his Life. If any one l"hall ferioufly confider with
me how great a Deftrudion of Piety arifes among Men,
partly by their Vices, who proftitute the Pope's Indulgences,
and partly by the Fault of them who take them otherwife
than they ought to do, he will confels that it is worth the
while to admonilli young Men of this Matter. But fome may
fay, by this means the Commiffioners lofe their Gain : Hear
me, O honeft Man j if they are good Men, they will re-
joice that the Simple are thus admonifli'd :, but if they are
ilich as prefer Gain before Godlinefs, fare them well.
In the Colloquy concerning hunting after Benefices, I
blame thofe who frequently run to Rome and hunt after Be-
nehces, oftentimes with the corrupting their Manners, and lofs
of their Money ^ and for that Reafon I carry on my Difcourfe,
that a Prieft fliould delight himfelf in reading good Authors,
inilead of a Concubine, la
( ' C 57^ ]
In the Soldier's ConfeJJion, I tax the Villanfes of Soldiers,
and their wicked Conteffions; that young Men may deteft
fuch Manners.
In the Schoolmafier's Admointions , I teach a Boy Shame-
facednefs, and Manners becoming his Age.
In the Child's Piety:, do I not lurniOi a childifh Mind wirh
godly Precepts, tor the Study of Piety ? As for that which
fome have fnarl'd at concerning Confefflofh it is a mere Ca-
lumny, to which I have anfwer'd long ago, I teach that
Confeffion is to be perform'd, juft as ic was ordain'd for us
by Chrifl: But whether it be fo done, I have neither a mind
to difprove nor affirm, becaufelam not thorowly farislied of
it my felf : nor am I able to prove it to others. And where-
as I advife to deliberate about chafing a kind of Life, and
to make choice of a Priefc to whom you may commit your
Secrets, I judg'd it to be necefTary for young Men ; nor do
I fee any Reafon why I iliould repent of it. But if fo, there
will be fewer Monks and Priefts : It may be fo j but then
perhaps they will be better, and whofoever is a Monk in-
deed, will prove it fo. And befides, they who endeavour to
make Men be of their ov/n Perfuafion, either for the fake of
their own Gain or Superftition, do very well deferve to be
defam'd by the Writings of all Men, that they may be
brought to Repentance,
In the Vrofane Feafl, I condemn not the Ordinances of
the Church concerning Fads and choice of Meats j but I
point out the Superftition of fome Men, who lay more Sixz(s
on thefe things than they ought to do, and neglect thole
, things that are more conducive to Piety. And I condemn
the Cruelty of them, who require fbridly thefe things of
thofe Perfons from whom the Meaning of the Church does
not exadt them ^ and alfo the prepofterous Holinefs of thofe
Perfons who condemn their Neighbour for fuch things.
Here, if any one fhall confider how great a xMifchief among
Men accrues hence to Godlinefs, he will confefs that fcarce
any other Admonition is more necefTary. But in another
Place I fhall give a fuller Anfwer to this Matter.
In the Re/igious Feafi, altho' I make them all Lay-Men,
and all married Men, yet I fufficiendy fliew what fort of
Feaft that of all Chriftians ought to be. With which Par-
tern, if fome Monks and Priefts compare their Feafts, they
will perceive how far fhort they fall of that Perfection, in .
which they ought to exceed Lay-Men.
In the Canoniz.ation, I fhew what Honour is due to Men of
Excellency, who have well deferv'd by their Studies of the
Liberal Arts.
P p 2 They
They are foolifh who think that the Colloquy hetiveen the
Maid and her S'weetheart is lalcivious, whereas nothing can
be ima=^in'd more chafte, if Wedlock be an honeft thing,
and it be honeft to be a Woer. And I could wiiTi ihat all
Woerswere fuch as Ifuppofe one in this Colloquy robe, and
that Marriages wer*" contracfted with no other Difcourfes.
• What can you do with thcfe of a four Difpoficion:, and averfe
to all pleaiant Difccurfe, who think all that is friendly and
merry, is unchafte ? This young Majd refufes to give her
Sweerheart a Kifs at his Departure, that ihe may preferve
her Virn;inity for him entire. But what do not Maids now-
a-days grant to their Sweethearts ? Beiides, they don't per-
ceive how many Philolbphical Sayings are intermix'd with
Jefi:s> concerning Marriages fo hailily made up ; concerning
the choice of Bodies, but much mere of Minds, concerning
the Brnmefsof Matrimony; concerning not contradling Mar-
riaG?;c3 without the Confent of Parents, and of keeping them
chaftly ; of the religioas Eduicacion of Children : And in
the laft place; the young Maid prays, that Chrift by his Fa-
vour would make their Marriapi happy. Is it not fit that
young Men and Maids fliould know thofe things ? And Per-
fons who think that this Leffon is hurtful to Children, by
rpafon of the wanionnefs o'f it, fufPer Flautus and the Jefts of
Tojrjgws to be read to them. O excellent Judgment !
In the Virgin that is averfe to Marriage, I abhor thofe
that by their Allurements draw young Men and Maids into
M''"'nafteries, contn-.ry to the Minds ot their Parents; making
a Handle either of their Simplicity or Superflition, perfua-
dinp them there is no hope of Salvation out of a Monaftery.
I firould not have given this Counfcl, if the World were not
full of fuch Fifhcrmen, and a great many excellent Wits
were not unhappily fmother'd and buried alive by thefe Fel-
lows, which orherwife, if they had judicioufly taken upon
them a Courfe of Life fuirabie to their Inclinations, might
have been choice VefTels of the Lord. But if at any time
I fhall be conftrain'd to fpeak my Mind upon this Subjedj
I will both fo paint out thefe Kidnappers, and the Heinouf-
nefs of the Evil it felF, that every one ihall own that I have
not given this Advice without a Caufe ; altho' I have done
it civilly too, left I fhould give occafion of Offence to ill Men.
In the next Colloquy, I don't bring in a Virgin that has
changed her Courfe ot Life after fhe has profefs'd her felf ;
but before fhe has compleady enter'd upon the Profeffion,
fhe returns to her Parents, who are very loving to her.
In the Colloquy hlaining Marriage, how many Phlofb-'
phical Sayings are there relating to concealing the Faults
C iSi ]
Of Husbands ; relating to the hearty Good will of m^rrisd
Perfons, not to be broken off; relating to tl-se making up
Breaches, and reformins; the Manners of Husbands ; of t!ie
pliable Manners of Wives towards their Husbands? V/hac
elfe do Plutarch, Arifiotle, and Xcnopbo?i X'^'ich ? Bjt thaE
here the Peribns add a kind of Life vo the Difcourfe.
In the Colloquy of the Solakr a^id Carihu^ian, I at once
do lively defcribe both the Madnefs of youyg; Men v.'l"io run
into the Army, and the Life of a pious Carthujian, which,
without delight in his Studies, cannot but be melancholy and
unpleafant.
In the Notable 'Lyar I lively fet forth the Difpofirions of
fome Perfons who are born to lying, than which kind of
Perfons there is nothing more abqminabie : I vvifn they were
more rare.
■ In the Colloquy of the Tormg Man and the Harlot, do I
not make Bawdy-houfcs chall;e ? And what Cf;u!d be ima-
gin'd more efFeitual, either to impljn.t the Care of Chaditv
in the Minds of young Men, or to rccLiira ycurg Maids Vv'ho
are fet to Sale for Gain, from a Courfe of Life that is as
wretched as it is beaftly ? There is one Word only tliA" has
offended fome Perfons, becaufe the immodcil Girl, foothing
the young Man, calls him her Cocky ^ wherea; this is a very
common ExpreiTion among us, with honeft Marrons. He
that can't away with this, inftead of my Cocky, let him read
wy Delight, or any thing elfe as he pleafes.
In the Poetical Fedfl, I iliev/ what kind of Feaf^j Students
ought to keep, w's. a frugal, but a jocofe and merry one*
feafon'd with learned Srories, without Contentions, Back-
biting, and obfcene Difcourfe.
In the Enquiry cQ?icernmg Faith, I fet forth tlie Sum of
the Catholick Religion, and that too fomething more lively
and clearly than it is taught by fome Divines of great Fame';
among which I reckon Gcrfon, whom, in the mean time, I
mention by Kame for Honour's fake. And b>dld^.'S, I bring
in the Perfon of a Lutheran, that there may be a more eafy
Agreement betwixt them, in that they as;rec in the chief
Articles of the Orthodox Religion ^ altho' 1 have not added
the remaining part of the Enquiry, becauie of the Malice
of the Times.
In the Old Mem Difcourfe, how many things are there that
are fhewn as it were in a Looking-glafs, which eitlier fliould
be avoided in Life, or may render it comfortable. It is better
for young Perfons to learn thefe Thinf?:s by pleafant Collo-
quies, than by Experience. Socratei hr:ou0n'Ph\\oior)hy down
even trom Heavea to Earths and I have made it a Diverhon,
P p 3 brought
brought ic into I'SmiUar Converfationj ^nd to the Table: For
even the Divertirements of Chriftians ought to favour of Phi-
lofopby.
In the Jxich Beggars, how many things are there by which
Country-Parfons that are ignorant and illiterate, and no v^^ay
deferving the Name of Pallors, may be enabled to amend
their Lives ? And befides, to take away the glorying in
Garments, and to reftrain the Madnefs of thofe who hate a
Monk's Attire, as if a Garment were evil of it felf? And by
the way, there is a Pattern fet down, what fort of Perfons
thofe Monks ought to be, who walk to and fro through
the Villages j for there are not many fuch as I here de-
fcribe.
In thq L,earned Woman, I refrefh the Memory of the old ,
Example of Paula, Etifiochius, and Marcella, who ^ added
the S:udy of I-earning to the Integrity of Manners : And I
incite Monks and Abbots, who are Haters of facred Studies,
and give themfelves up to Luxury, Idlenefs, Hunting, and
Ganiing, to other kind of Studies more becoming them,
by the Example of a young married Woman.
In the Apparition 1 detedt the Wiles of Impoftors, who
are wont to impofe upon well-meaning credulous People,
by feigning Apparitions of Devils, and Souls, and Voices
from Heaven : And what a great deal of Mifchief have thefe
juggling Tricks done to Chriftian Piety ? And becaufe an
ignorant and fimple Age is in an efpecial manner liable to
be impos'd upon by thefe Deceptions, I thought it proper to
fet forth the manner of the Impofture to the life by a face-
tious Example. Pope Celefiine himfelf was impos'd upon by
fuch Tricks j and a young Man of Berne deluded by Monks j
and even at this very Day, many are thus impos'd upon by
devifed Oracles.
Nor are the leaft part of human Miferies owing to Alchy-
viy, by which even learned and wife Men are impos'd upon j
it being fo pleafing a Difeafe, if once any one be feiz'd with
it. To this Magick is alio a-kin, being the fame in Name,
but flattering them with the Sirname of Natural. I charge
Horfe- Couriers with the fame cheating Tricks, and in the
Beggars Dialogue • and again in the Fabulous Teafi. If
Boys fiiould, from thefe Colloquies, learn nothing elfe but
to fpeak Latin j of how much greater Commendations are
my Labours worthy, who by that way of Play and Diver-
tifement effe6t that, than theirs who enforc'd upon Youth
the Mammothrepti, Bracbylogij Catholiconfa, and the Me-
thods of fignifying.
In
, t i83 ]
tn the Lying-in Wo?na7t, befides the Knowledge of natural
'^Things, there are a great many good Morals concerning the
Care of Mothers towards their Chiidien^ firll while they arc
' Infants, and again after they are grown up.
In the Religious Pilgmnage, I reprehend thofe who have
tumultuouily caft all Images out of Churches, and alfo thofe
that are mad upon going on Pilgrimage under Pretence of
Religion, from whence alfo now-a-days Societies are formed.
They who have been at Jerufalem arrogate to themfelves
the Title of Knights^ and eall themXelves Brothers j and
on Falm-Sunday devoutly perform a ridiculous Adlion, and
drag an Afs by a Rope, making themfelves at mod as mere
Affes, as the wooden Afs they drag along. They alfo, that
have gone on Pilgrimage to Compoftella, have imitated them
in this. Let thefe Pradices be allow'd, let them be allow'd
to gratify the Humours of Men ^ but it is an unfufiferable
Thing, that they fhould make it a pare of Piety. Thofe
Perfons alfo are remarked upon, who fhev; uncertain Reliques
for certain ones, and attribute more to them than ought to be*
and bafely make a Gain of them.
In the Ichthyophagia, or Vijh-eating, I treat of human
Conftitutions, which fome wholly rejed, deviating much from
right Reafon: And on the other hand, fome in a manne^ pre-
fer them before divine Laws: And fome again abufe Inditu-
tions both human and divine, to Gain and Tyranny. I therefore
endeavour to temper both Parties to Moderation, by enquiring
from whence human Conftitutions have bad their Original ;
and by what Steps they have advanc'd till this Time j on
what Perfons, and how far they are obligatory ; to what
Ends they are ufeful, how far they differ from divine j {hew-
ing by the way the prepofterous Judgments of Men, of
which the World is now full, and from whence this Uproar
in the World proceeded. And I have treated of thefe Things
more at large for this Reafon, that I might give occafion to
the Learned, to write more accurately of them j for thofe
that have written of them hitherto have not given Satis-
fadtion to the Curious. It was not fo much to the purpole to
write againft Whoring, Drunkennefs and Adultery, becaufe
none are deceiv'd by thefe Things i but true Piety is endan-
ger'd by the other, which either are not perceiv'd, or do
allure by a deceitful fliow of Sandity,
In the Vuneral, inafmuch as Death commonly tries the
Hope of a Chriftian, I have reprefented a different kind of
Death in two private Perfons, as it were by a lively Image,
reprefenting the different Departure of thofe that put their
Jruft in Fidions, and of thofe who have plac'd the Hope of
. Pp 4 their
L iS4 1 .
their Salvation in the Lord's Mercy ; by the way reprovin*
the fooliOi Ambition of rich Men, who extend their Pride
and Luxury even beyond their Death, which Death at leafl:
ought to take away : Alfo reprehending the Error of thofe
who abufe the F'-^ly of thofe Men to their own Profit, when
it is their Buiinefs in an efpecial msnner to corre6t it. For
who is he that fhall prefume to admonifh, with Freedom, Men
of Power and Wealth, if Monks, who profeis themfelves
dead to the World, footh their Vices ? If there are not
any fuch as I have defcrib'd, yet I have produc'd an Exam-
ple that ought to be avoided , but if more accurfed things
than I have fet forth, are reported to be commonly pradtis'd,
then thofe that are juft, ought to acknowledge my Civility,
and amend that in which they are to blame ; and if they
are blamelefs themfelves, let them either reform, or reflrain
thofe who do offend. I have reviled no Order, unlefs he
ihall be accounted to defame all Chrifleiidom, that by way
of Admonition fhall fay any thing againft the corrupt Man-
ners of Chriftians. Thofe that are fo concern'd for the Ho-
nour of the Order, ought to be hinder'd from finding fault
with me, efpecially by thofe who by their Actions do openly
difgrace the Order. And fince they own, cherifb and de-
fend fuch as are Brother-Companions, with what Face can
they pretend, that the Honour of the Order is leffen'd by
one that faithfully admoniflies ? Altho', what Reafon is there
which dictates, that this or that Fraternity fliould be fo re-
fpeded, that the common Profit of Chriftians (hould be neg-
lected ?
In the Colloquy of the Dijference of Names and ThhigSy
I find fault with the prepofterous Judgment of fome.
In the U^te^ual Feaji, I fhew what is agreeable to Ci-
vility.
In Charon I fhew my Abhorrence of War among Chri-
ftians.
In the AJfembly of Grammarians I deride the Study of a
certain Carthufan, very learned in his own Opinion, who,
whereas it was his Cuftom foolifhly to rail againft the Greek
Tongue, hath now put a Greek Title to his Book ; but ri-
diculoufly calling them Anttcomarita, whom he fliould have
call'd AntemarianSi or Antidkomarians.
In the Cyclops I reprove fuch as have the Gofpel in their
Mouth, when nothing like the Gofpel appears in their
Lives.
In the Unequal Marriage I fet forth the Folly of People
in common, when in matching their Daughters they have
regard to the Wealth, but difregard the Pox of the Bride-
groom^
1 585 1
groom, which is worfe than any Leprofy. And that now-a-
days is fo common a Pradlice, that no body wonders at it j
altho' nothing can be more cruel again ft their Children.
In the Feigned Nobility, I defcribe a fort of Men, who
under the Cloak of Nobility, think they may do any thing j
which is a very great Plague to Germany.
In the Varliament of Womeny I was about to reprehend
feme of the Vices of Women ^ but civilly, that no body
might expert any thing like what is in Juvenal. But while
I was about this, the Knight without a Horfe prefented ic
fclf, according to the old Saying, Talk of the Devil, and he
appears. The reft are in a manner all compos'd for Diver-
fion, and that not diftioneft j which is not to defame the
Orders, but to inftrud them. Wherefore it would be more
to the Advantage of all the Orders, both privately and pub-
lickly, if they all would lay afide the Rage of Reviling,
and would with Candour of Mind embrace whacfoever is
offer'd with an honeft Intention for the publick Good. One
has one Gift, and another has another j fome are taken
with one thing, and fome with another ; and there are a
thoufand Ways by which Men are attradled to Piety. The
Study of Juvencus is commended who publifh'd the Hifto- 4
ry of the facred Gofpels in Verfe. And Arator is not
without his Praifes, who did the fame by the Afts of the
Apoftles. Kdary blew the Trumpet againft Hereticks.
Augnflin argues fharply. Jerome argues by way of Dialogue.
Trudentius maintains the Combat in a various kind of
Verfe. Thomas and Scotus fight with the Auxiliaries of
■Logick and Philofophy. Their Studies have the fame Ten-
dency, but the Method of each is different. That Diver-
fity is not to be blamed that tends to the fame End, Teter
the Spaniard is read to Boys, that they may be the better
prepar'd to read Arifiotle:, for he hath fet them a good Sit-p
forwards, that hath given them a Relifh. But this Book, if
it be firft read by Youth, will introduce them to many ufe-
ful parts of Science, to Poetry, Rhetorick, Phyficks, and
Ethicks j and laftly, to thofe things that appertain to Chri-
ftian Piety. I have taken upon me to fuftain the Perfon of
a Fool, in blazoning my own Merit j but I have been induc'd
to it, pardy by the Malice of fome who reproach every
thing, and partly for the Advantage of Chriftian Youth,
the Benefit of whom all ought with their utmoft Endea-
vour to further.
Tho' Matters ftand thus, and are manifeftly fo to all Per-
fons of Underftanding, yet there is a ftupid Generation of
Men, whom the French call Deputati ; and for this Reafon,
• •• ^ -_ • ■ ■■ j^g
as I iippofe, becaufe they are but diminutively polite, wbd
rpeak thus of my Colloquies, They are a Work to be fliunn'd>
' cfpecially by Monh, whom they term the Religious, and by
young Men, becaufe the Fafts and Abftinences of the Church
are therein fee light by, and the Interceffion of the bleffed
Virgin Mary droll'd upon ; and that Virginity is not com-
parable to a Marriage-State, and becaufe all are diffuaded
from entring upon Religion, and becaufe in it the hard and
difficult Queftions of Divinity are propounded to v;?eak Gram-
marians, contrary to the Orders fworn to by the Mailers
of Arts. Candid Reader, you are not unacquainted with the
Athenian Eloquence. I fhall firft give an Anfwer to the lall
of thefe Objedions. As to what the Mafters of Art pro-
pound to their Pupils, > I know not ; The Matters treated of
in my Colloquies concerning the Creed, the Mafs, Failing,
Vows, and Confeffion, contain nothing of theological Diffi-
culty j but they are of that kind, that every one ought to be
acquainted with. And belides, feeing the Epiftles of St. Paul
are read to Boys, what Danger is there in giving them aTafle
of Theological Difputations ? And further, whereas they know,
that the intricate Queftions of greateft Difficulty (I do not fajr
of vain Subtilty j concerning the divine Perfons, are very ear-
ly propounded to young Students in Sophiftry, why are they
not willing that Boys fhould learn that which concerns com-
mon Life ? And now if this be their Opinion, it is no mat-
ter what is faid in the Perfon of fuch or fuch a one ; then
they m'uft fuppofe, that there are many things in the Writings
of the Evangclifts, and of the Apoftles, which, according to
this Rule, are downright Blafphemy. In many places I
approve of Fafting, and no where condemn it. He that
fhall aflert the contrary, I will declare him to be an impu-
dent Liar. But, fay they, in the chiUiJb Piety there are
thefe Words [I have nothing to do with Fafiing^ Suppofe
thefe Words were fpoken in the Perfon of a Soldier, or a
Drunkard j does Erafmus of Neceffity condemn Fafting } I
think not. Now they are fpoken by a Youth, not yet ar-
riv'd at that Age, from which the Law requires the Obfer-
vation of Fafts ; and yet that Youth prepares himfelf for
fafting rightly ^ for he proceeds thus, But yet if I find occa-
fion, I dine and [up jfaringly, that I may be more lively for
fpiritual Exercifes on Holy -days. And how I condem Ab-
jftinency, thefe Words in the profane Feaft declare j In a
great many Cir cum (lances, it is not the thing, but the Mi7td,
that difiingmjhes us from Jews ^ they held their Hands from
certain Meats, as unclean things, that nvould pollute the
Miwdy but lue uiiderftavding, that to the Tare all things
are
I 587 1
are pure, yet take aivay Food from the ivanton Flefb, as w»
do Hay from a pamper'd Horfe, that it may be more ready
to hearken to the Spirit. We fometimes chafiife the immo-
derate Uje of pleafant things, by the Fain of Abflinence.
And a little after he gives a Reafon why the Church has for-
bidden the eating of certain Meats. To the Qiieftion, To
ivhom does the Inju n&ion do good ? Says he^ To all ; for poor
Folks may eat Cockles or Frogs, or gna-w upon Onions or
Leeks. The middle fort of People ivill make fome Abate^
ment in their vfual Frovifon : And tho* the "Rich do make it
an Occafon of their living delicioujly, they ought to impute
^that to their Gluttony, and not blame the Conflitution of the
Church. And again I fpeak thus, I know DoBors do 'very
much find fault with the eating of Fijh ; but our Ancefiors
thought otherwife, and it is our Duty to obey them. And pre-
fently, in the fame place, I teach. But the Offence of the
Weak ought to be avoided.
It is as falfe, that the Favour of the blefled Virgin, and
other Saints are droU'd upon in my Colloquies j but I de-
ride thofe who beg thbfe things of the Saints, which they
dare not ask of a good Man ; or pray to certain Saints with
this Notion, as if this or that Saint either could, or would
fboner grant this or that thing, than another Saint, or Chrift
himfelf would do. Yea, and in the Child's Fiety, the Lad
Ipeaks thus, I falute Jefus again in three Words, and all the
Saints, either Men or Women j but the Virgin Mary by J^ame,
and efpecially that I account moft peculiarly my own. And
afterwards he mentions by Name, what Spaint he falutcs
daily. And is it any flrange thing, that a Suitor to a young
Maid, rtiould commend a married Life, and fays. That
chafle Wedlock does not come far JJjort of Virgijtity 1 Efpecially
when St. Aufiin himfelf prefers the Polygamy of the Pa-
triarchs before our fingle Life.
As to what they objed concerning the entring into a reli-
gious Life, my Words declare how plainly vain it is, in
the Virgin hating Marriage ; for the Maid fpeaks thus.
Are you then tJi the main againfi the Inflitution of a mona flick
Life ? The young Man anfwers. No, by 710 means j but as
1 will not perfuade any Body againfi it, that is already en^
ga^d in this fort of Life, to endeavour to get out of it j Jb I
would mofi undoubtedly caution all young Women, efpecially
thofe of generous Tempers, not to precipitate themfelves un-
advifedly into that State, from whefice there is no getting
cut afterwards. This is the Conclufi'on of that Colloquy,
however they had difputed before. Pray, does this diffuade
from entring upon a religious Life ? The entring into it is
_^ not
A
.[588 ] ,
not condemn'd, but the unadvifed Rafhnefs cf it : There-
fore they malicioufly wreft my Words, in order to reproach
me. But, at the iame time, they do noc animadvert, how
many things young Students thence learn, that oppugn the
Opinions of the L.nthera7ii.
In the chiUifi Fiety, the Way of hearing the Mafs well and
profitably is taught, and the true and efrecfual Way of Con-
feflion is fhown. Young Students are there inftruded, that
thofe things that are us'd by Chriftians, tho' they are not
found in the Scriptures, mufl: neverthelefs be obferv'd, led
we give occafion of Offence to any Perfon.
In the Profane Feafi they are inftruded, that they ought
rather to obey the Inflitutions of Popes, than the Prefcrip-
tioqs of Phyficians ; only they are given to underftand, that
in cafe of Neceffity the Force of a human Law ceafes, and
the Intention of the Law-giver. There a certain Perfon
approves of Liberality^ towards the Colleges of Monks, if
Men give for real Ule, and not to fupport Luxurry ; and
efpecially if given to thofe that obferve the Difcipline of
Religion.
In the Colloquy concerning Eating of Fijb, this is faid
concerning human Inftitutions j Well, let them fight that love
■fighting j I think lue ought -with Reverence to receive the Laivs
of our Superiours, and religioufiy obferve them, as coming from
God • nor is it either fafe or religious, either to conceive in
Mind or fov^ among others any finifier Sufpicion concerning
them ; arid if there is any Super fiitio7i in them, that does not
compel us to Impiety, it is better to bear it, than feditioufiy to
refift.
f oung Students may learn many fuch things out of my Col-
loquies, againft which thefe Men make fuch a murm.uring :
But, fay they, it does not become a Divine to jeft ^ but let
them grant me to do this, at leaft am.ong Boys, which they
themfelves take the Liberty to do among Men, in their Vef"
peria, as they call them, a foolifli Thing by a foolifh Name.
As for thofe foolifh Calumnies that fome Spaniards have
caft upon me, I have fliown that they are mere Dreams of
Men, that are neither fober, nor well underftanding the
Liatin Tongue ; nor has that lefs of Learning in it, where
one has faid, that it is an heretical Expreffion, that in the
Creed the Father is call'd fimply, the Author of all things ;
for he being deceiv'd by his Ignorance of the Latin Tongue,
thinks that Author fignifies nothing elfe but Creator or Fra^
tner. But if he fhall confult thofe that are well skill'd in
the Latin Tongue, if he fliall read Hilary, and other an-
tient Authors, he will find that Authority is taken for that
whici^
which the School-Men call the moft perfed Caufe of the Begin-
ning ; and therefore they attribute it peculiarly to the Father ;
and by the Name of Author ofren mean the Father, when
they compare the Perfons among themfelves. Whether the
Father can rightly be call'd'the Caufe of the Son, does not
concern me, feeing I have never us'd the Word Son ; unlels
that this is moft true, that we can't fpeak of God, but in
improper Words ; nor are the Fountain; or Beginning, or
Original, more proper Words than the Caufe.
Now, Reader, confider with me what fort of Perfons
fometimes they are, who by their Notions bring Men to 'he
Stake. There is nothing more bafe than to find fault wi:h
that thou doft not underfland. But that Vice of vilifying every
thing, what does it produce but Bitternefs and D;fcord ?
Therefore let us rather candidly interpret other Mens Works,
and not efteem our ov/n as Oracles, nor look upon :he Judg-
ments of thofe Men as Oracles, who don't underfland what
they read. Where there is Hatred in judging. Judgment is
blind. May that Spirit, which is the Pacifier of all, who ufes
his Inftruments various ways, make us all agree and confent
in found Dodrine, and holy Mann2rs, that we may all come
to the Fellowfhip of the new Jemfaha, that knows no Dii-
cords. Amen.
In the Tear i^^iG.
at B^fil.
ERJS^
[ S9° 1
Erafmm^of Rotterdam,
O F TH E
Method of Study,
T O
CHRISTIANUS of LUBECK.
My /fecial Friend Chriftian,
1 A K I N G no doubt but that you have an ardent
Defire of Literature, I thought you flood in no
need of Exhortation ; but only a Guide to dired:
you in the Journey you have already enter'd upon :
And that I look'd upon as my Duty to be, to you,
the moft nearly ally'd to me, and engaging i that is to fay,
to acquaint you with the Steps that I my felf^took, even
from a Child : Which if you fhall accept as heartily as I
communicate, I truft I fhall neither repent me of giving
.Diredlions, nor you of obferving them. Let it be your firft
Care to chufe you aMafler, who is a Man of Learning; for
it cannot be, that one that is unlearned 'himfelf can render
another learned. As foon as you have gotten fuch an one,
endeavour all you can to engage him to treat you with tha
Affedion of a Father, and your felf to ad towards him with
the AfFedion of a Son. And indeed, Reafon ought to in-
duce us to confider, that we owe more to thofe, from whom
we receive the way of living well, than to thofe to whom
we owe our firft living in the World ; and that a mutual
AfFedion is of fo great Moment to Learning, that it will
be to no purpofe to bave a Te?cher, if he be not your
Friend
[ S9i r
Friend too. In the next place, hear him attentively and af-
fiduoufly. The Genius of Learners is often fpoil'd by too much
Contention. Ainduity holds out the longer, being moderate,
and by daily Augmentations grows to a Heap larger than caa
be thought. There is nothing more pernicious than to be
glutted with any thing , and fo likewife with Learning, And
therefore an immoderate preffing on to Learning is fometimes
to be relax'd j and Divertifements are to be intermix'd : But
then they fhould be fuch as are becoming 2 Gentleman, and
Student, and not much diflPerent from the Studies themfelves.
Nay, there ought to be a continual Pieafure in the very midft
of Studies, that it may appear to us rather a Paftime than a.
Labour ; for nothing will be of long Duration, that does not
aflfeft the Mind of the Doer with fome fort of Pieafure. It
is the utmoft Madnefs to learn that which m.uft be unlearned
again. Think that you ought to do the fame by your Genius,
that Phyficians are wont to do in preferving the Stomach.
Take care that you don't opprefs your Genius by Food, that
is either noxious, or too much of it ; both of them are
equally offenfive. Let alone Ebrardus, Catholkon, Brachylo-
gus, and the reft of thefe fort of Authors, all whofe Names.
I neither can mention, nor is it worth while fo to do, to
Others who take a Pieafure to learn Barbarifm with an irh-
menfe Labour, At the firft it is no great matter how much
you learn ; but how v/ell you learn it. And now take a Di-»
redtion how you may not only learn well, but eafily too j for
the right Method of Art qualifies the Artift to perform his
Work not only well and expeditioufly, but eafily too. Di-
vide the Day into Tasks, as we read Fliny the Second,
and Pope Vius the Great did. Men worthy to be remember'd
by all Men. In the firft Part of it, which is the chief thing
of all, hear the Mafter interpret, not only acrencively, but
with a fort of greedinefs, not being content to follow him in
bis Diflertations with a flow Pace, butftriving toout-ftriphim
a little. Fix all his Sayings in your Memory, and commit
the moft material of them co Writing, the faithful Keeper
of Words. And b» fure to take care not to rely upon them,
as that ridiculous rich Man that Seneca fpeaks of did, who
had form'd a Notion, that whatfocver of Literature any of
his Servants had, was his own. By no means have your
Study furnifli'd with learned Books, and be unlearned your-
felf Don't fuflfer what you hear to flip out of your Me-
mory, but recite it either v/ith your fdf, or to other Per-
fons. Nor let this fufiice you, but fet apart fome certain
Time for Meditation ; which one thing as St. Aurelius wrires
does moft notably conduce to aflift both Wit and Memory.
An
[ S9^ ]
An Engagement and combating of Wits does in an extraorr
dinary manner both fhew the Strength of Genius's, rouzes
them, and augments them. If you are in doubt of any thing,
don'c be afham'd to ask ; or if you have committed an Error,
to be corrected. Avoid late and unfealbnable Studies, for
they murder Wit, and are very prejudicial to Health. The
Mufes love the Morning, and that is a fit Time for Study,
After you have din'd, either divert your felf at fome Exer-
cife, or take a Walk, and difcourfe merrily, and ftudy be-
tween whiles. As for Diet, eat only as much as fiiall be fuf-
ficient to preferve Health, and not as much or more than
the Appetite may crave. Before Siipper, take a little Walk,
and do the fame after Supper. A iiule before you go to
fleep read fomething that is exquifite, and worth remembring ;
and contemplate upon it till you fall afleep ; and wheri you
awake in the Morning, call your felf to an Account for it.
Always keep this Sentence of Vlmfs in your Mind, All that
T^tme is /o/? thai yon do'it befloiv on Study, Think upon this,
that there is nothing more fleeting than Youth, which, when
once it is paft, can never be recalled. But now 1 begin to
be an Exhorter, when I promis'd to be a Diredor. My
fweet Chrifiiany follow this Method, or a better, if you can j
and fo farewel.
FINIS.
^351
I
Colloquies of Erasmus
Received: Bound in
full dark maroon cross-
grain calf; leather red-
rotted, front cover
detached.
Treatment : Textblock
reinforced xd-th stab-
joint endsheets ; a
50/50 mixture of methyl
cellulose and Jade ^3
adhesives used against
textblock.
The BookBinder 1982
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